


Gods of the Forevergreen

by wingthing



Series: The EQ Alternaverse [17]
Category: Elfquest
Genre: EQ Alternaverse, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-08-30
Packaged: 2018-04-18 06:05:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 30,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4694882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wingthing/pseuds/wingthing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Blue Mountain fell Door was little more than a lifeless shell. For five hundred years he slumbered, lost in nightmares. But now he is awake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Capture

**Sunstream...? Sunstream, can you hear me....?** 

Sunstream slowly stirred, slowly pulled himself out of oblivion. At first the throbbing pain in his head was the only voice, drowning out even his lifemate’s sending. But slowly he began to remember. 

The call, the sending picture of a rich forest, so like the Great Holt... 

The journey across the Vastdeep in the Palace to Sorrow’s End.... 

The shorter flight down into the wild rain forests Windkin liked to call the Forevergreen... 

The long trek through the jungle in search of the mysterious elf who refused to answer Sunstream’s repeated calls... 

The many days and nights following a winding river deeper into the dark forest... 

The attack. The humans. The company scattering. 

Kimo changing into a wolf. The humans recoiling in horror. A moment’s grace bought. 

The blow to his head. Dart scooping him up in his arms, leaping onto Kimo’s back. 

Yun and Wavecatcher taking to the river for safety. 

Windkin seizing Quicksilver and flying to safety. 

And Spar... Spar? 

**Malin...** Quicksilver called gently. 

Sunstream slowly opened his eyes. He lay on his back, Quicksilver bending over his fallen body. She pressed a cold compress of wet leaves to his forehead. “Are you with me, cloudhead?” she asked, smiling weakly. She was trying to sound cheerful. But she was very worried. He could always tell. 

“What... what happened?” Sunstream moaned. “The others...?” 

Dart crouched alongside Quicksilver. “The humans leapt out at us, Sunstream, do you remember?” 

“Uhn... yes...” he licked his lips. “They... they spoke our language. They said ‘sky spirits.’” 

Dart nodded gravely. 

Sunstream tried to sit up, but his head swam. “Easy now,” Quicksilver gently supported his shoulders and eased him up. “You’re lucky that club caught you where it did.” 

Sunstream waited for the vertigo to pass. He saw Kimo, still in wolf form, drinking greedily from the little creek. Windkin floated in the air a few feet overhead. 

“Where are the others?” Sunstream demanded, panic rising in his throat. “Where are Yun and Wavecatcher? Where is Spar?” 

* * * 

Yun held her breath until she felt her lungs were about to burst and clung to Wavecatcher’s shoulders for dear life as he swam through the murky river, carrying them both forward with powerful strokes of his shapechanged tail. The human arrows and blowgun darts no longer pierced the surface of the water, but now they were swimming under a heavy layer of branches and fronds that had washed into the river. The surface was still out of reach. 

She could faintly hear a distant sending buzzing in her head. But she could not divert any attention. Stars were exploding beneath her closed eyelids. She felt as though she were about to burst. 

**Sharn!** she begged. **I can’t breathe.** 

His sending was calm, almost unnervingly so. **I know, Yun. Hang on. I see a patch of air up ahead.** 

She couldn’t hold her breath any longer. She exhaled, and a flurry of bubbles stung her face. Her head was spinning. She felt she was about to black out. 

Suddenly they surfaced, and Yun drew in a ragged breath of air. Droplets of water about her lips went in with the air, and she gasped and coughed. Wavecatcher wasn’t even winded. The same powers that allowed him to self-shape a tail in water gave him almost supernatural lung capacity. And despite over three hundred years lifemated to the mer-elf, Yun had never managed to learn the deep breathing techniques he tried to teach her. 

“Augh...” Yun coughed again. She was limp as seaweed. She struggled to raise her head and look around. They had surfaced in a small pool, not dissimilar to the one where she and the Islander had met years before. The jungle was still, the only sounds those of small birds. 

Wavecatcher turned, treading water with slow strokes of his tail. “Hey, hey,” he gathered her in his arms and pressed his forehead to hers. “How’s my pretty lander?” 

“Just a little... out of breath,” she murmured. 

“We’re safe now. The humans are gone.” He stroked her hair back from her face. “You all right now, hmm?” 

She nodded. “Think so. Someone... sending... under there.” 

“Quicksilver. I answered her. She knows we’re safe.” 

Yun smiled wanly. She had inherited too much of her mother’s Go-Back blood. She could never send very well over distances, and certainly not when panic adrenaline took over her blood. 

“The others?” 

“They’re safe... I think. You ready to hit the land?” 

“Never been more ready.” Yun released his shoulders and dogpaddled for shore. She hauled herself on the ground and struggled to stand. “Ohh, little shaky,” she murmured, swaying on her feet. 

Wavecatcher swam to the edge of the pond. With one powerful stoke of his tail, he rose up out of the water, shapechanging in mid-air. His silver-blue tail split in half, and his tail-fins shaped into feet. In an instant, he was once again bipedal, a scanty leather loincloth his only clothing, shaped fins on his wrists and calves the only signs of his selfshaping power. 

Yun put a hand to her forehead and concentrated. **‘Silver... where are you?** 

**Yun! We’re... east of you, I think. Yes. Head towards my sending.** 

“Ready to run?” Yun asked Wavecatcher. 

He stretched. “Little knot in my leg. Nothing I can’t shake off. Let’s go.” 

The two jogged through the underbrush, stirring countless insects and small rodents. Yun saw a low hanging tree branch and she caught it, flipping herself up into the trees. Wavecatcher followed without missing a beat. He had adapted to the Wolfrider way much faster than she had to the Islander way. 

They bounded from branch to branch, racing through the darkened jungle. It wasn’t long before Quicksilver’s sending star, feeble at first to Yun’s mind, grew bright and strong. 

Yun dropped down from the trees into the clearing. Their kin was waiting for them alongside a shallow stream. Kimo lingered in wolf-form, while Quicksilver nursed Sunstream’s head wound and Dart and Windkin patrolled the perimeter on foot and in the air. 

“Yun!” Quicksilver leapt up and rushed to her sister’s side. “Sister!” she hugged her. “I was so worried. Wavecatcher – are you two all right?” 

“We’re both fine. What about you? Is everyone safe?” 

Windkin floated back to the ground. Kimo got to his feet and shape-changed back into his elf form. Dart helped Sunstream rise to his feet. Yun looked around. Spar was nowhere to be found. 

She drew in a breath. “Where’s Spar?” 

“I... I carried Quicksilver up into the trees out of reach of the blowgun darts,” Windkin explained. “I couldn’t carry Spar too. And when I went back for her...” 

“The humans,” Sunstream filled in. 

“Did they... is she...?” Yun couldn’t bring herself to ask. 

“She was alive when I saw her last. I tried to reach her – but I couldn’t. The humans were surrounding her... they drove me off with darts and arrows. I heard her calling for me. And then,” Windkin frowned. “I heard them speak. They spoke our tongue! The accent was strange. But I heard them say ‘Take her to Lord Kamara. Take her to Door.’” 

“Stars...” Yun breathed. She looked to Sunstream and Quicksilver, and they looked equally grave. Wavecatcher looked from one elf to another, completely mystified. 

“Who is Door?” 

* * * 

She was being led somewhere. She could feel someone pushing her, pulling her, picking her up and carrying her when her drugged steps faltered. 

“Ohh... what a beautiful spirit...” 

“Hair like sunset fire...” 

“Eyes like jade...” 

“And she has come to us?” 

She was still dreaming from the poison in those tiny needles they had shot into her neck. She thought they were speaking in the elfin tongue. 

She blacked out again, as she had many times on the long march. When the humans had first seized her, she had been bundled in cloth and carried on the back of a large five-finger. She vaguely remembered a trek through tall grass, spires of sharp gray rocks guarding a five-finger village, and great buildings of stone rising all around her, trimmed with precious metals. What strange manner of humans were these that built villages of stone and gold instead of wood and thatch? 

When she came to again, she heard a man’s voice growling loudly. “Is she awake? Is she alive? It will be all your heads if the spirit dies on us! Yes, they can die. If they can bleed, they can die!” 

No... it wasn’t the poison. They were speaking the elf tongue! 

She was set on her feet. She blinked and struggled to keep her eyes open. Drowsiness tugged at her eyelids, and she wobbled like a wolf pup on dreamberries. She was in a stone room, lit only by a few glowing coals set in golden braziers. There were no windows, no silver starlight. The human she had heard growling in that harsh dialect of her own language was only visible as a glowering shadow, hovering near one of the braziers. 

“She must be made ready,” the shadow ordered. 

“Yes, m’lord Kamara.” 

“Kamara...” Spar rolled the word on her lips. 

“The spirit speaks!” 

“Quiet! The spirit is tired. It is a hard journey to descend from the heavens. She does not know what she says. Now shut your mouths and dress her as befits as goddess.” 

Spar looked up. She was surrounded by three women in simple cloth dresses, ornamented with gold collars and bracelets. Their faces were broad: tanned planes of cheekbones and foreheads. They wore their black hair simply bound in low tails. Their dark eyes glowed in the dim light and their smiles were kind. 

They weren’t going to harm her, she could read their peaceful intentions on their faces. But the shadow in the corner – she was not so certain about him. 

“M’lord Kamara, we have nothing her size.” 

“She is so small... are all woman-spirits this small?” 

“Stop your chatter!” Kamara barked. “If you have nothing to fit her, then make something new. I want her dazzling as a bird of paradise when we take her to her mate.” 

Mate? 

Suddenly the women’s hands were everywhere, stripping her of her garments. Her leather tunic, her skirt, her gauntlets and boots, all were taken from her. Spar tried to fight their grasping hands, but she was still too weak. She could only slump against the tallest of the women as the others started laving her limbs with scented water. 

She was in no condition to fight, and she feigned another lapse into unconsciousness. She had always been good and pretending to be asleep. It was a game she and Yun and Quicksilver had played together when they were all cubs together. One would pretend to sleep, the others would try to make her laugh with tickling and jokes so dreadful they always brought a smile to the face. 

Now she let her head roll back against the supporting hand of the woman, and she listened carefully with her wolf’s senses. 

“Why... delicate as a child but with a woman’s body...” one of the woman murmured. “Truly this is a goddess from the sky." 

“Aina,” she heard Kamara growl under his breath. 

“Yes m’lord,” another distant voice, low and gutteral with masculine growls. Spar winced under the woman’s washcloth. How they slaughtered the beautiful birdsong of the elfin speech. 

“The others, with the red-crowned one... describe them again.” 

Her kin. Had they escaped? In her weakened condition, she had not been able to manage a clear sending to Sunstream. 

“My lord, it was dark.” 

“Answer me. You led the war party. What did you see?” 

“My lord, they were all of that one’s height, more or less. Some were darkly tanned, others white as milk like this one. They were all possessed of varied powers. One could float on the air like our god. Another transformed his legs into a tail and dove into the river, taking one of the females with him.” 

“A bouto?” 

“I did not see him transform completely. But yes, my lord, I think so.” 

“Hrmmm... I never believed the native superstitions... river dolphins that became men and seduced maidens into the deep water... but you say he was not as tall as a man?” 

“No, my lord. He was the tallest of them, I believe, but still, not even up to my shoulder.” 

“And the others. You said one was a werewolf? Is that all superstition, or did you actually see him change.” 

“I did, my lord. One moment he was a small lad, no taller than my own son. Very dark skin, and blue-black hair. He wore... a blue loincloth about his hips. And as I watched he twisted and shaped into a black wolf, with the same blue cloth about his furred neck. Two of the spirits escaped us upon his back.” 

Spar struggled not to let on she heard, struggled to keep her smile buried. So her kin had fled. They would soon come for her. 

“Suppose the legends of the heathens are true, my lord? Suppose the woods are filled with spirits?” 

“We would have seen signs of them by now. No. These came here in answer to our god’s foolish calls for other spirits. Now as you value your hide, Aina, you will keep your mouth shut about the others. As far as the people know, there is but one new spirit come to us. No bouto, and no werewolves. Understand?” 

“Yes, my lord.” 

The women had finished bathing her and brushing her hair, and now they were festooning her with ornaments. Spar flinched and squirmed as she felt them pawing her again. One woman dipped her fingers in some oily lotion or paint, and began to draw designs on her left arm, on her torso. A line of cold dots sprouted from shoulder to hip, and Spar couldn’t be still any longer. She fought the intrusive fingers tracing a pattern down her breast, down her stomach. But the woman holding her was strong, and she could do little beside shudder and snarl. 

They placed rings and strange slips of gold over her fingers, until her hands were weighed down with metal. They wound ribbon as soft as moth-fabric about her right arm. They tied feathers in her hair and hung heavy golden rings from her earlobes, having discarded the delicate hoops she normally wore. They hung a feathered girdle about her hips, then a long pannelled skirt overtop, secured with cool gold chains. She felt them lifting her feet to tie more cloth and jewels to her ankles and her arches. Her shoulders were heaped with segmented gold bands until she bore a heavy collar that stretched from her throat to her breasts. 

“Our Goddess Redcrown...” one of them whispered. 

“So beautiful...” 

“Enough!” Kamara came closer, and Spar took the risk of opening her eyes and lifting her head. The burly human stood before, seeming almost twice her height to her drug-blurred eyes. He had rich brown-black hair cut to his broad shoulders, and a heavy crown of gold and feathers crowning his scarred face. 

Other elves often sneered that all humans looked alike, but Spar’s keen eyes noticed an immediate difference between this Kamara and the women who held her down. Where their faces were broad, all wide cheeks and brown skin, Kamara’s face was narrower, his cheekbones sharper, his skin lighter and his eyes slyer. He did not avert those dark eyes as the women did, but stared right back at Spar, challenge in his gaze. 

“Guards!” he barked, not taking his eyes off the elf. 

The man he had been talking to, Aina, shuffled closer, accompanied by two guards almost as tall as Kamara. Spar’s eyes flitted to Aina, and saw he was of the same type as the women, slighter in build with wider, kinder-seeming faces. The guards, however, were clearly of Kamara’s tribe. 

“Take her!” Kamara ordered. “She is ready for her mate.” 

The guards pushed the women away, and suddenly Spar was lifted off the ground, one human holding either arm, carrying her slung between them. Her head spun, and Spar hung her head to conserve energy. 

“The goddess is so small...” one whispered. 

“Quiet!” Kamara boomed. 

They carried her down a narrow corridor, and against her will Spar recalled her parents’ sending-pictures of Blue Mountain, and Quicksilver’s sending-pictures of the caverns Two-Edge had built under the rubble that now remained. Intricately carved stone pressed around her from all sides. 

Finally they reached the end of the hallway, and a heavy wooden door which Kamara wrenched open on its metal hinges. “Bring her in,” he commanded the guards, who carried Spar over the threshold. 

Light. The red glow of burning torches set in the walls, and the silver starlight let in from above, through an intricately carved skylight in the roof. Suddenly the guards released her, and Spar was dumped unceremoniously to the floor, her fall barely broken by the woven carpet. 

She lifted her head and her breath caught in her throat. 

There was a large stone throne set against the wall before her. And sitting upon it was an elf. 

A Glider, he had to be, for he was almost as tall as the Tall Ones that crouched about his throne deferentially. He was clad in red and black robes, trimmed with feathers and gold braid. A metal skullcap ornamented with silver feathers concealed whatever hair he might have, and accentuated the sharpness of his cheekbones. His gray eyes pierced her to the core. 

“Who... who are you?” the Glider asked. 

Kamara answered before she could. “Almighty Door. Your calls into the night have been answered. See what a spirit you have called door from the heavens. Your mate – come to be one with you and rule alongside you.” 

“Door?” Spar remembered the old tales of Blue Mountain and the collapse of the Great Egg. How Skywise had been imprisoned, how Swift had forced the male Door to release him, how the three of them had escaped as the entire structure came down around them. How Door, lost inside his own mind, had been left with the Hoan-G’Tay-Sho as their guardian spirit. 

“Mate?” Door looked at Spar uncertaintly. Spar struggled to rise to her knees. 

“You... you heard my sending,” Door breathed. “I cannot tell you... I feared... feared I was the only one left alive... after the mountain fell.” 

“No,” Spar said. “There are many of us,” she spoke guardedly, mindful of Kamara, but fearful to send. In her state she might well reveal more than she wanted. “Families upon families.” 

“Families in the sky,” Kamara said smoothly, moving to Spar’s side. “But what does that matter to you, Almighty, now that you have a companion at last, and now that we have a goddess to worship.” 

“I don’t want to be worshipped!” Spar snapped at Kamara. “I want to be set free.” 

“Quiet, wench,” he hissed under his breath. “You’ll be a caged goddess or you’ll be a free corpse!” 

“A mate...” Door repeated, his gaze still on Spar. “Come closer, child.” 

Spar hesitated. 

“Do not be afraid,” he beckoned. “Let me see you better.” 

Still Spar didn’t move. Kamara’s patience snapped and he seized a handful of her auburn hair. “Obey your master, Goddess Redcrown!” he growled as he dragged her across the floor by her hair. He dumped her at the foot of Door’s throne and shoved her head down so her forehead touched his knees. 

Spar’s head snapped up as soon as he released her, and she glared up at Door. But Door still bore a dazed look of dreamy contentment. He cupped her chin with one long-fingered hand and gazed into her eyes. “What is your name?” he asked. 

Spar was silent, defying Kamara to strike her again, defying Door to pinch her chin and shake her. She grit her teeth and tensed her muscles, ready to fly at her tormentors. 

**Your name.** Door repeated calmly. 

Spar winced at the intensity of his sending. It reached deep inside her pierced her very soul. A clear shaft of light broke through her defenses, illuminating what she had trained herself to kept carefully hidden. It was not an attack she could defend against, but something else – a request so powerful she could not ignore it. 

His silver eyes had imprisoned her. 

**Sohn,** she replied breathlessly.


	2. Captivity

“Spar...” she corrected, shaken and dizzied. A convulsive shudder ran through her body as she realized what had happened. Perhaps... perhaps he wouldn’t understand. Gliders didn’t have soulnames. Maybe... he wouldn’t think any more of it. 

“Spar,” he repeated. His fingers slowly traced the contours of her face, then drifted up into her hair. **My Sohn.** 

She shuddered to hear him assert his possession of her with such a carefree smile. The instant he returned her soulname she knew – she knew he understood it, understood the power she had unwittingly given him. 

She had never felt a sending like that before, like something from the time of the High Ones. 

And now she was his, as surely as if she had Recognized him. 

And he knew it. 

She looked away, overcome with shivers. Her vision swam. She was certain she would be ill. 

“Why do you shiver? You have nothing to fear.” 

Spar thought quickly. Best not to anger him. 

“The – the humans... I am not used to so many. They frighten me.” 

“Of course. Leave us, all of you! I would be alone with my mate.” 

“Almighty,” Kamara began obsequiously. 

Door looked up from Spar and met Kamara’s eyes for the first time. “Go,” he commanded. 

Kamara growled under his breath, but he motioned for his guards to withdraw. The servile humans who clustered around the throne with offerings of fruit and water likewise rose and departed, bowing and murmuring prayers of thanksgiving. Finally even Kamara turned and left the room, closing the door behind him with a resounding slam of protest. 

Spar turned back to Door. “We heard your call,” she said quickly. Best to distract him, to make him forget. “Sunstream, Master of the Palace, he received your sending. He shared it with all of us. Your world, it seemed such a wonderful place, full of warmth and life.” 

“It was... so beautiful here... when the Hoan-G’Tay-Sho first arrived... after the journey over mountains and water... a place of magic and healing. But that place... is dying. The old ways are vanishing. That is why I called for you. I need the help of my kind to restore what is even now fading. I... so alone. Kamara told me all the ‘spirits’ had fled this world. I feared I would call into the night forever, and only silence would answer me. But you answered me, my Spar.” He stroked her cheek fondly. “There is so much to be corrected... so much to put back in place. I cannot do it alone. But now I have you, and we will rule over a time of peace and healing.” 

Spar shook his hand off her. “But you’re not alone, Door. There are more elves than just me. My kin, my friends, they’re looking for me even now. They’re coming for me even now. They’ll be here before you know it. And when we leave, you can come with us. You can see the Palace! The Palace of the High Ones – the ancestral Firstcomers’ Shell. Oh, there are so many elves out there, Door. A world out there for you to explore.” 

Door smiled and shook his head. “No... no...” 

“Yes,” Spar insisted, risking a smile now. 

“No,” he touched her face again. “They won’t take you away from me. No, my precious mate.” His eyes turned steely. “No, Sohn. I won’t let anyone take you away from me.” 

* * * 

“There were two Doors at Blue Mountain,” Sunstream explained. “A female who guarded the main entrance to Blue Mountain, and a male who guarded the entrance to Winnowill’s private chambers. The female Door must have died during the collapse of Blue Mountain and the Great Egg. The male Door was still guarding Winnowill’s chambers when the Egg began to collapse. He had trapped Skywise in the rocks just outside Winnowill’s room. He would have left Skywise to die – he didn’t care, he didn’t think – all that mattered was fulfilling his duty. My mother dragged him from his perch and forced him to release Skywise. I’m still not certain how she did it, but somehow, she broke through the fog in Door’s mind. She dragged him and Skywise to safety just as the Egg fell. The humans who lived at Blue Mountain – the Hoan-G’Tay-Sho, they asked to protect the “bird-spirit” and care for him. Door seemed to have gone... out... or within, again. We were all exhausted. Mother was suffering from Winnowill’s attack. Father was being driven half-mad by the spirits of the Gliders who had chosen him as their guide back to the Palace. We only wanted to rest. And so we let the humans take Door.” 

“I still don’t understand,” Wavecatcher said. “Why let him go off... with them?” 

“Aye, that’s the hardest part of the story to understand,” Dart agreed. 

“I don’t know why we did,” Sunstream said. “I was just a cub at the time, tired, miserable, terrified to see what the ordeal had done to my sister, my parents. The other Wolfriders... they wanted nothing more to do with Blue Mountain. Even Tyldak didn’t know what to do with Door. Mother... she once said, ‘He’s not just a mushroom. He’s an elf. He wants to live, like any other elf.’ But we had no idea how to teach Door to live. Father... well, perhaps if he hadn’t had all the souls of the Gliders buzzing around him, goading him towards the Palace... he might have urged us to heal Door. But... I don’t know,” he rolled his shoulders. “The humans... Tyldak said we could trust them, said they might well be the best one to help Door heal. And the young boy who had appointed himself leader – his name was... Geoki – he pleaded so eloquently. ‘Let us shelter him now, as he and his kin have sheltered us for so long.’ But in the end I suppose, we were selfish. We wanted to rest. We wanted everything neatly tied up. So we let them take him, and we forgot about him.” 

“It wasn’t your fault, Suntop.” Quicksilver touched his arm. “You were only a cub then.” 

He smiled a little to hear his cub-name on her lips. Even after all these years, she still forgot sometimes. 

“I don’t know. We all thought we were doing the right thing.” 

“Once you’ve climbed up the mountain you can always see better than before you started,” Quicksilver said. 

“She’s right,” Dart says. “What matters now is getting Spar back.” 

Sunstream closed his eyes. **Spar?** he called. **Spar, are you there?** 

A faint reply buzzed in the air, inaudible to the others. **Sunstream...?** 

**Stars. I can barely hear you. Have they hurt you?** 

**Venom... poison on the darts... my head is still spinning.** 

There was more. Her sending was badly shaken. 

**We heard the humans say ‘Door.’ Is it true?** 

**Yes. Oh, Sunstream, you should see him. He is... so wrong inside. He seems to think he’s in a dream... Sunstream, he thinks I’m his mate!** 

**His mate?** 

**His sending... so powerful... I... couldn’t.... I have to go. I can’t let him know I’m sending. Sunstream, he won’t let me go. He says he’ll stop anyone who comes for me. Be careful. I have to go.** 

**Go,** Sunstream sent. **We’ll come for you. Don’t fear.** 

Sunstream shared the lock-sending with the others. “She’s very afraid,” he added when he had relayed the exchange. “More so than she lets on. Door’s awake now, and he’s as dangerous as the Black Snake. More... I think he holds her by more than merely human servants.” 

“Winnowill held my mother by her very soulname,” Windkin brooded. “It’s been so many years, and she still won’t talk about it. Do you... do you think Door has a similar hold on Spar?” 

“Could be. Her sending was... different somewhat. I think Winnowill may have taught Door quite a few tricks.” 

“He was her pupil, wasn’t he?” Quicksilver said. “Her personal rockshaper.” 

“We can’t leave Spar with him,” Yun said hotly. “Not for a heartbeat. Call the Palace, Sunstream. We’ll break right into whatever village they’re hiding in, kill ourselves a few round-ears, and bust her out.” 

“I’m with Yun,” Quicksilver said. “Call the Palace.” 

Windkin nodded. Dart, Kimo and Wavecatcher were more reticent. Sunstream shook his head. “We can’t risk it.” 

“Risk?” Yun sneered. “What’s the risk?” 

“Oh, I dunno,” Dart muttered. “Giant crystal mountain starts hovering about their village... naw, they won’t panic and do something rash.” 

“He’s right,” Sunstream said. “The humans could kill Spar. Door could kill Spar. She said he had no intention of giving her up. In his state... and hers... we can’t risk it. There’s another danger. Suppose the humans decide to shoot the Palace down? Suppose Door sees the Palace and decides to take it for himself. We were unbelievably fortunate that Haken wanted nothing to do with the Palace once we had revived Chani. We cannot risk any damage to the Palace. It’s worth more than all our lives combined.” 

Quicksilver set her mouth in a scowl, but she did not disagree with him. 

“So what are we supposed to do?” Yun asked. 

“We go in and we get Spar out. Ourselves.” 

“Seven of us against a nest of five-fingers? We should call for reinforcements.” 

Kimo grinned. “Come on, Yun, where’s that Go-Back recklessness?” 

Dart gave Kimo a chastizing slap to the shoulder. 

“Smaller numbers are to our advantage,” Sunstream said. 

“The human nest can’t be far from here, if Spar’s already there,” Dart decided. “We should be able to find it without too much problem.” 

“I can scout from the air,” Windkin offered. 

“No! We can’t risk it. We’ll travel by cover of trees and darkness.” Sunstream looked up at the sky, barely visible through the rainforest canopy. “It’s almost sunrise. “We can’t risk travel by day. Let’s camp up in the trees for the day.” **Spar,** he risked another lock-send. **We’ll come for you by night. Be strong.** 

* * * 

Spar dozed on the carpet at Door’s feet. The venom in the darts was slow to wear off, and she was exhausted from the night’s events. Slowly she raised her head. Door was fast asleep, sitting up in his throne. 

Spar looked down at her hands. The humans had decked her with jade bracelets and little golden rings. Two little claw-like slips graced her fore- and middle finger on her left hand. 

The claws were so sharp. She could punch one in Door’s jugular and kill him right there... 

Or she could simply tiptoe to the door, and face whatever lay beyond it... 

She quickly got to her feet and began to back away from the throne. 

Door’s eyes snapped open. Spar froze. 

“Where are you going?” he asked in his deceptively soft, almost dreamy voice. 

“I... I have to go,” Spar stammered. 

“Where?” 

His gaze was so piercing, his voice oddly soothing. She felt her legs tremble. 

“I... I want to bathe,” she stammered out. “And... and then I want to sleep.” 

“Oh. Oh. Of course.” 

She heard a bell ring somewhere. Suddenly the room was filled with human women. 

“My mate wishes to rest. See to her needs.” 

“Of course, Almighty,” they murmured, and soon the Tall Ones swarmed around her, shepherding her away from Door and the stone chair. 

Kamara had snuck in with the women. He must have been waiting outside the door all this time. Spar craned her head to see over the women and strained to hear the whispered words exchanged between elf and human. 

“There are other elves here,” Door said, and his voice grew icy. Icy... but still soft, a seductive whisper. 

“No, Almighty Door. We found the beautiful redcrowned spirit, none other.” 

“You’re lying. There are others. My mate has told me.” 

Kamara swallowed hard. “What is your will, Almighty?” 

“Find these others. They will try to take my mate away. Search the forest. Find them. Bring them here, alive. No one will take my goddess from me.” 

Spar shuddered. “Ohh, are you cold, Almighty?” the women asked. 

“Yes,” Spar lied. “You gave me precious little to wear, after all.” 

Sunstream’s sending touched her mind. **We’ll come for you by night. Be strong.** 

**They’re coming to hunt you down, Sunstream. Guard your own hides before you worry about me.** 

* * * 

Windkin couldn’t sleep. The rays of the sun set the understory aglow with emerald light. He glanced down from his perch high among the branches. Sunstream and Quicksilver were snuggled up together on a lower branch. Dart and Kimo were fast asleep in a little fork of another tree. Yun was dozing in Wavecatcher’s arms. 

Everyone else could take comfort with their lifemate. Windkin was alone. 

He missed Ahdri. And he could only imagine how lonely Spar must feel, trapped inside the human nest. A feeling of protectiveness for his old lovemate stirred in his breast. How could Sunstream sleep so peacefully knowing Spar was a prisoner of brutish five-fingers and an insane Glider? 

No. It wasn’t right that they sleep the day away. He got up from the branch and floated higher into the trees. No one stirred below. Emboldened, Windkin flew up into the emergent layer, and higher. He broke through the canopy and glided above the sea of green, startling the roosting birds into flight. 

He’d find Spar, break her out of the human prison, and return to camp before Sunstream even woke up. How bad could the round-ears’ nest be? He had seen the cramped wooden camps of the humans in the Great Spur. He had flown over the squalid villages near Thorny Mountain, and he had even spied on the bestial encampments that clustered around the edges of the Burning Waste. These Hoan-G’Tay-Sho couldn’t mount any real resistance. 

The forest thinned, and Windkin was forced to choose his path carefully as he flitted from cover to cover. Small farmlands were scattered in the clearings. A few brown-skinned women and children were hard at work in the plowed fields, not unlike Sun Folk. Windkin flew higher over the sparse covering of trees. Where was their nest? 

He drew to an abrupt halt and hovered in the air as the Hoan-G’Tay-Sho settlement came into view. 

Huge pillars of gray rock, jagged and menacing, rose up from the ground, forming a defensive ring around the city. Wooden scaffolding sat just inside the rocks, and humans stood at wooden watchtowers every thirty or so paces. And beyond the rocks, nestled in the center of the ring, was a village of stone. No mean wooden huts or animal-hide tents. The humans lived in houses of rock and clay, and they walked on stone lanes. His eyes quickly counted hundreds of the little houses. And in the center of the city, rising from the lanes in five levels, was a massive hall of stone. Sloping ramps connected the levels, and incense burners consumed a fragrant brew of oils at each of the many open doorways. 

Everywhere, the humans were swarming, like an army of ants. 

**Sunstream?** Windkin sent uncertainly. 

Instantly the Palacemaster knew Windkin had left camp. **Windkin! Are you mad. I told you to stay hidden by day!** 

**Never mind that.** He sent Sunstream an image of the city below. “We’ve got bigger problems now.** 

* * * 

Inside the Hoan-G’Tay-Sho ziggurat, Spar paced the stone floor uneasily. Once again the human women had dressed her in feathers and gold. No finger claw-covers, though. They had taken those from her when she wounded one of her guards in an attempt to escape. Kamara and his men guarded her closely, even as the women fussed over her like a cub over a rag-doll. 

She looked up. Door floated in the air high above her, just below a highly ornamented skylight. Puckernuts, Spar thought. If I could only get up there, I could easily slip through the bars. But Door did not even notice her now. He was awake, she could see his open eyes. But his mind was elsewhere. Was he going out as Rayek and Sunstream did? Or was he only lost in memories? She remembered the stories of her childhood. Door’s eyes had been open so long ago when Swift rescued him from Thorny Mountain. 

“Door?” she called. “Are you listening? I know you can hear me. You have the power to release me. We can get away from here. We can be free, away from this place, together!” 

“You must not say such things, little goddess,” one of the women murmured. 

“Door!” Spar called. “Curse it! What’s wrong with him?” 

“Nothing is wrong with the Almighty,” The woman drew nearer. “Please, little goddess. Kamara must not hear you speak so.” 

Spar ignored her. “Door!” she shouted. “Poke it! I wish Windkin were here,” she muttered. “I could use a Glider’s magic right now.” 

Suddenly a force lifted her up off the ground, and she floated up to meet Door. Soon she was hovering eye to eye with him, and now his gray eyes were intensely fixed on her. 

“Gliders? Are there other Gliders?” 

Spar hesitated. “Yes.” 

“Who? Who survived the Mountain’s collapse?” 

Again Spar wondered if she ought to hold her tongue. But looking into Door’s eyes, feeling his voice seem to sink into her very soul, she couldn’t resist. “Tyldak. Did... did you know Tyldak?” 

Door frowned, and his eyes became unfocused as he sifted through the ancient memories. “The winged one... yes...” 

“He left Blue Mountain three turns before it collapsed. He Recognized a member of my tribe, Dewshine. They have a son, Windkin. And... and there are others.” 

“Others? I thought they all perished.” 

“No. A few survived. Aurek – You knew him as Egg. He lives with us now. And Aroree, one of the Chosen Eight. She was outside the mountain when it fell, but she still lives there, in the caves underneath the rubble. So does her lifemate, Two-Edge, Winnowill’s half-troll–” 

Suddenly she dropped. Door had released his hold on her, and the floor rushed up to meet her. Wolfrider that she was, Spar’s reflexes kicked in, and she landed in a crouching position. 

Door was now on the floor at her side. “Winnowill!” His voice was no longer gentle and seductive, but harsh and rasping. Pure rage flashed in eyes, and beneath the anger, genuine horror. “Does she live still?” **Does she?** 

“No.” Spar shook her head, recoiling at the power of his sending. “She died when the mountain fell.” 

Relief washed over Door’s face. He sighed softly, and his eyes unfocused. Once again he was lost in his own world. He forgot about Spar and floated back up towards the skylight. Spar was left shivering on the stone floor. 

One of the women slowly drew closer to Spar. “Are you well, little goddess?” 

Spar stumbled as she got to her feet. “You must never speak that name,” the woman cautioned. “Please, little goddess. To speak it carries the penalty of death.” 

“Death?” 

Now the woman was looking up at Door. “The legends say that he travels within. He lives in a world of his own creation, far from the places we know. Lord Kamara says he travels on such wondrous journeys... that his thoughts are ever with the birds.” She lowered her heavily-lashed eyes. “But I think the Almighty does so to retreat... when he is afraid. Because of her. Because of Win-o-will.” 

“The Black Snake,” Spar whispered. 

“You know her.” 

“Oh, yes. All us... spirits, know of the Black Snake.” 

“You must never speak her name. The common people must never know that our Almighty was once another’s slave. There can be only one Almighty, one god and one goddess. Kamara and the Geo’kali demand it.” 

Spar looked around the room desperately. She saw none of Kamara’s tall broad-shouldered guards, only the quiet dark-skinned Tall Ones. “What is your name?” Spar asked the woman. 

“Arua, Almighty.” 

“Don’t call me that.” 

“As you will, Goddess Redcrown.” 

“Don’t call me that either. My name is Spar.” 

Arua hesitated. “Then when Kamara’s ears are closed, I will call you Spar.” 

“You hate him too, don’t you?” 

Arua’s eyes darkened. “His people have enslaved mine for eight generations. I serve the Almighty, not the Geo’kali.” 

“There are other spirits in the forest,” Spar whispered. “My friends and kin. Door has sent Kamara and his men to find them and bring them here.” 

Arua looked pained. “Oh, no. I had hoped what Kamara said was true – that you alone fell from the sky. If he and his men find any others spirits – whether they can fly or not – outside the city walls, they will kill them.” 

Spar turned deathly pale. “But Door... he said–” 

“Kamara does not listen to the Almighty. And he will not risk the people discovering that the legends of one god alone are not true.” 

Spar felt her legs tremble. “No...” she murmured. No! She could not stay here in this stone prison. She shoved Arua out of the way and raced for the silk-laden bedroom the women had prepared for her. A soft bed not unlike the mattresses the Sun Folk used sat in the center of the room, and at the far wall a window looked out over the wild jungle the humans had let grow between the back of the ziggurat and the spires of rocks Door had long ago shaped for them. 

Once again she struggled with the bars that covered the windows. A lattice-work of stone shaped like vines kept forest birds from roosting and small elves from fleeing. She could contort herself in a variety of shapes, but she still could not make her shoulders clear the stone bars. She remember vaguely a trip to the far north, and a young Go-Back who knew how to dislocate and relocate his shoulders at will. If she could only squeeze through the bars and find shelter in the underbrush, she could easily outwit any blundering humans. 

But she did not dare risk popping her arm from her shoulder without a sureproof way to pop it back in. She could not scale the rock spires with only one good arm. 

Oh, if only there was some wood in these bars, then she could shape her way out. Her father’s gentle teachings had helped her increase her treeshaping powers, and while she would never achieve Redlance’s level of expertise, she could easily shape an escape route through wooden walls. 

But all was stone here. And the one time she had broken a hole through a wooden door, Kamara’s guards had been waiting for her. 

She seized a little sculpture from the side table and brought it hard against the bars. Nothing. Again she slammed the carving against the bars, hoping to find a weak spot somewhere, anywhere. 

Arua hovered in the doorway. “Oh, please don’t, little goddess!” 

“Agh!” Spar shook the bars, but they did not even tremble. 

Now Door appeared in the room, and Arua withdrew in fear. Spar turned to see the Glider regarding her with his typical drowsy curiousity. Had he already forgotten how he had let her fall twenty feet? Anger rose inside her. 

“Let me out!” she demanded. “You’re a rockshaper – shape me a way out now!” 

“Why?” 

“Because I can’t stay here! I’m a Wolfrider – I need to be free!” 

“You’re my mate. Your place is here.” 

Spar’s fragile self-control snapped. She took hold of the edge of the wooden table and her shaping powers molded the wood into a pointed dagger. She broke the stake from the table and held it up. “I am not your mate! Let me go! Or I’ll show these humans that their ‘Almighty’ can bleed!” 

Door stared at her impassively. Spar vaulted over the bed between them and aimed the point of the stake at his throat. She was almost upon him when Door moved, but when he did, he moved quickly. A hand shot up to seize her wrist, and the stake stopped short of his neck. Spar beat Door’s chest with her free hand and snarled, baring her pointed canines. She struggled to free her wrist, but Door held her with a vice-like grip. 

**Stop,** he sent calmly. 

**Curse you!** Spar raged. 

**Stop, Sohn,** he repeated, his inner voice just as calm, but with a resonance that pierced her mind’s defenses. Spar crumpled to the floor and the stake clattered to the floor uselessly. Her head spun and she gasped for breath. Door calmly reached down and retrieved the stake. Then he strode away, leaving Spar helpless on the floor. 

“Take away all wooden objects,” he ordered Arua. “I wouldn’t want my mate to hurt herself.” 

Spar slowly propped herself up on her elbows. “I hate you!” she spat at Door. 

“You’re tired,” Door replied dismissively. 

“I’ll kill you!” she vowed, the blood of the Hunt rising in her veins. 

“No, you won’t.” 

He was right. As long as he held her soulname, she was at his mercy. 

**Spar...** a voice called in the distance. It was Windkin. 

**Windkin,** she forced her mind to close off to all but the young Glider outside the city. **Where are you?** 

**In the rocks on the west side of the stone mountain in the center of the village. I’m coming for you, don’t worry.** 

Spar glanced up. Door lingered in the doorway, his head cocked to one side, as if listening. 

**Windkin! Get out of here! Now!** 

Door smiled. And he swept from the room. 

* * * 

Windkin knew something was wrong. Suddenly the round-ears were swarming on the wooden scaffolding. And now Spar’s sending rang out in his head. **Windkin, he heard me! He’s like the Black Snake – he can spy on our sendings. You have to get out of here!** 

Windkin hesitated a moment. He was perched quite percariously in the rocks. To fly now would be to be spotted, especially with the humans everywhere. But the shouts of nearing warriors convinced him to risk it. He flew from his perch and ascended into the sky as swiftly as his Glider blood allowed him. 

Oh, that I had Father’s wings, he thought. He could not accelerate nearly fast enough. Not with the humans screaming and raising their weapons. 

They shot at him with their blowguns, but he was already out of range and the darts fell back to earth harmlessly. Bravado overcame his good sense then, and Windkin laughed as he hovered above them. 

“Take a good look at your flying demon, Tall Ones!” he shouted down at them as he turned to make his escape. 

A projectile caught his left side hard, and he wavered in the air as he lost control of his powers. Instinct took over, and he clamped his hand over the entry wound and the smooth shaft of the arrow as he flew over the city. He could feel the blood flowing over his hand, dripping down to the ground. His eyes stung as sweat from his brow trickled down his face. The pain burned the harder he taxed himself. But he flew beyond the rock spires, beyond the farmlands, back into pristine forest before his strength failed him and he crashed through the trees. 

Somehow he found the strength to ease himself into a little nest of branches and leaves. Panting with exhaustion, he contemplated the arrow lodged in his ribs. It was not in deep, and the stone arrowheads the Tall Ones used were smooth, without barbs. Gasping, he yanked the arrowhead free and cast it away. He grabbed the closest, broadest leaves he could find and pressed them against the wound. 

His head spun. His lungs burned. 

Poison. Curse the round-ears. 

**Sunstream...** he sent weakly. **Help.** 

* * * 

“Curse it all!” Sunstream swore as he received Windkin’s last feeble message. “Windkin’s hurt.” He turned to the others, all drowsy in the treetops as their afternoon sleep was interrupted. “We have two elves to rescue now.” 

* * * 

They made their way through the jungle slowly, picking their way from branch to branch with increasing trepidation as they neared the human nest. Soon they could spot the crown of jagged rocks that Windkin showed them in his sending-picture. Humans were working in the farmlands as the sun began to descend into the western sky. 

“We go carefully now,” Sunstream said. “No second chances. Windkin is on the other side of the city.” 

They slowly circled the edge of the city, taking care to stay in densely forested areas. The sun was setting when they reached the place where Sunstream had last sensed Windkin’s presence. 

Kimo spotted something on the forest floor. With a nod of assent from Sunstream, the shape-shifter elf darted down to the underbrush and retrieved the human arrow. Dried blood covered the stone arrowhead. 

“There are five-fingers’ footprints everywhere,” Kimo said. “Windkin was here.” 

“But where’s Windkin?” Yun asked. “Can’t you send to him, Sunstream?” 

“He’s keeping me out of his mind. I can’t lock-send to him, and I don’t dare send openly with Door prowling inside those rocks.” 

“But can’t you find him?” Yun scowled. “Isn’t there... like a ripple that comes back to you, when he locks you out? I thought you were the hub of the wheel that connects all elves!” 

“He’s doing his best,” Quicksilver shot back. “He’s not a bloody High One.” 

“If Windkin’s locking me out, I’m betting there’s a good reason,” Sunstream said. “No one sends now. Not until we find him and we can get some answers.” 

“How will we find him, then?” Kimo asked. 

Sunstream smiled wryly. “You and Dart are full-blooded Wolfriders. Can’t you scent him out?” 

“It’s hard...” Dart murmured. He breathed deeply, then winced. “So many humans... such stink.” 

“There’s no wind either,” Yun said. “Everything just sort of muddles together in this humidity.” 

At length Kimo sighed. “I can’t pick up a thing.” He frowned. “You know... my senses are always heightened when I’m in wolf form. I think... if I changed... I might be able to find something.” 

Sunstream frowned. “I don’t know... a big black wolf prowling the jungle...” 

“The humans haven’t passed by here in hours. Their scent has gone cold. I think it would be safe. If... if you think so,” he added. 

Sunstream glanced at his lifemate. Quicksilver shrugged. “It’s worth a chance.” 

“All right. Yun, Dart, Quicksilver, take up spotting positions. Wavecatcher, you stay with me. If we see any sign of trouble we’ll whistle, Kimo. Shape back and get up into the trees as fast as you can. Understood?” 

Kimo nodded. He quietly unlaced his boots and handed them to Wavecatcher. He climbed down from the trees and loosened the loincloth about his waist. Then he began to change. His black hair whirled about his face and seemed to spread across his body. His limbs lengthened and his shoulders narrowed. The blue leather settled comfortably about his furry neck as the metamorphosis was complete. Kimo looked up at the hidden elves and flashed them a lupine grin before he set to work sniffing the brush were he had found the arrow. 

“Think he’ll find something?” Wavecatcher asked. 

To answer his question, Kimo panted and shook his head in the direction of the scent trail. Suddenly the wolf was off, bounding through the underbrush. “Follow!” Sunstream hissed, and the five elves raced through the trees to keep pace. 

They broke through a tangle of vines and looked down at the ground. Kimo was again sniffing, now the air instead of the ground. He tipped his head back and howled loud into the growing dusk. 

“Shh, Kimo!” Sunstream hissed. 

“Wait a minute,” Dart said. “You know... Windkin been living in the Sun Village for years, but he used to howl like no one else when he lived in the Great Holt. Maybe... I wonder if he remembers his old tribe howl.” Before Sunstream could stop him, Dart cupped his hands around his mouth and howled “Yip-yip-yooowwwlll! Yip-yip-yoooooaaaoooohhh!” into the forest. 

* * * 

“Cursed wolves!” Kamara cursed. “Base beasts of the forest. Pay them no heed, Almighty.” But Door was watching Spar, who crouched miserably under the barred window. Her ears perked up at the sound of the howls, and tears welled in her eyes. 

Dart and Kimo. I hear you... 

Now more voices joined the chorus, all crying out in their secret language for a reunion, all crying out for Windkin. 

She licked her lips. She was faint from self-imposed fasting. But she put her face to the bars of the window and howled as loudly as she could. 

“Be quiet!” Kamara shouted. 

“Let her be,” Door said softly. “She is singing to her forest servants.” 

“My lord–” Kamara began sharply. 

“Enough,” Door said. Then he lowered his voice. “Find them. And find the one you claim you wounded. My mate longs for company.” 

Spar heard every word. But she did not care. The tears ran down her cheeks as she howled for her friends. 

* * * 

“Listen,” Sunstream whispered. 

“It’s Spar,” Dart said. 

They waited in silence as Spar’s call faded out. Silence reigned in the growing dusk. Then finally, off to the west, came a weak howl. 

“Windkin!” Sunstream grinned. “Let’s go!” 

They raced through the trees, occasionally howling again for guidance. Darkness had fallen before they found Windkin. He lay in a clumsy bed of leaves and ferns high in the canopy, semi-conscious and curled in a fetal position. Instantly they saw the cause of his stricken state. He held a cluster of leaves against a wound in his side. 

“Windkin? Windkin?” Yun fell at his side. “Come on, Glider, say something.” 

“There’s where the arrow hit, all right,” Quicksilver lifted the dressing. “Oh, the skin is burning around the wound.” 

“Poison...” Windkin breathed. 

“Like the kind they shot Spar with,” Sunstream said. “She was out for most of the night.” 

“Hold still,” Quicksilver said to Windkin. “This is going to hurt a little.” Gently she probed the wound with her fingertips, and Windkin moaned softly. 

“It’s not bad. The venom did more damage than the arrowhead.” 

Yun put her hand to Windkin’s forehead. “Ohh, he’s burning up. Can’t we do something for him?” 

Wavecatcher touched Yun’s shoulder, but he had no words of comfort to offer. 

Quicksilver frowned. “If only we were back home. Mother showed me all sorts of plants and herbs that can help ease fevers and cure illness – but none of them grow here in this cursed ‘Forevergreen.’ If I try to give him the wrong plant, I’ll just make things worse.” 

“Then there’s nothing we can do but wait,” Sunstream said. “Cool water, a warm blanket, that’s about all we can offer him.” He leaned close to the strickenelf. “Windkin. Windkin, it’s Sunstream. Can you hear me?” 

Windkin groaned and nodded. 

“I know you’re tired. You’ll be fine come sunrise. But I need to know, why wouldn’t you send to me? Is it because of Door?” 

Windkin nodded. “I think... he’s waking up. He heard Spar send to me... he knew... where I was.” 

Sunstream shuddered. “Just like Winnowill...” 

“Spar...” Windkin murmured. 

“We heard her howl. She’ll be safe... for now. You just sleep. Let the venom work its way out of your blood. We’ll move again when you’re better.” 

“Sorry...” 

“You should be. It was a cursed stupid thing you did. You’ve lived too long chiefless, I think,” he teased. “All those years in the quiet Sun Village where you did as you pleased.” 

“Quiet?” Windkin found the strength to smile. “You did not visit often... did you, Sunstre-” his voice failed him and he drifted back into dreams. 

Kimo, back in elf form and steadily climbing the tree all this time, finally caught up with the others. “Windkin?” 

“Sleeping,” Sunstream said. “We’ll have to stay here until he recovers. We can’t risk being separated again.” 

“And Spar?” 

Sunstream hung his head. “She’ll have to wait a little longer.”


	3. Uncertainty

Spar struggled as the guards dragged her into the darkened room. Kamara was waiting for her. 

“So, little Redcrown, three escape attempts in three days. You’re consistent, if nothing else.” He indicated the guards to release her. “Leave her with me.” 

One of the men hesitated. “Should we not let the Almighty deal with her?” 

“You obey me! I am the voice of the Almighty to the people. Go. I will call you when I am finished.” 

The guards withdrew, and the wooden door closed, sealing Spar in with the tall human. She looked up at his broad shoulders and his powerful fists and she shuddered. Unbidden, she remembered the countless times she had dismissed danger as “they’re only humans.” Oh, how she understood now, as she had not as a cub, how dangerous humans truly were. 

“So... you are not happy here...” Kamara growled. “I wish you to be happy here, Redcrown.” 

“You know I’m not. You hold me as a captive – as a pet! You claim to worship us ‘spirits’ and yet you keep me locked here as a prisoner. Is this how all humans treat their gods–” 

“Be silent. You live because I allow it. Because your presence eases the madness of that old buzzard Door, and because I can use you to calm the rabble that chants for ‘Spirits! Spirits!’ outside the ziggurat. Yes, you are my pet, Goddess Redcrown, and you will obey me, as all others do, or I will break you as I would break a feral dog!” 

He turned his back on her and began to pace restlessly. “For ten generations, the Hoan-G’Tay-Sho have worshipped the Almighty Door – the Doorway To All Things. And for ten generations, they have worshipped my line as well, the Geo’kali, the ruling priestly caste.” He spun back to face her. “Do you know the story of my people, spirit?” 

“Some of it, yes. I know you worshipped our kind at Blue Mountain, before it fell. I know you left turns and turns ago, bearing your ‘Almighty’ on your shoulders as your guardian spirit.” 

“You know nothing! My eighth-forefather Geoki was a fool, an idealistic child. Well I know the legends they tell of him. Look!” he pointed to a collection of carvings on one of the stone walls – real carvings, etched by human hands, not an elf’s magic. “The story of my people, carved in stone to live as long as the spirits themselves. Bah! Geoki the Wise. Geoki the Far-Seeing. He grew to manhood as he led my people south from the Dead Mountain. His son Brusha led the Hoan-G’Tay-Sho after Geoki died. And his son Jalma lead us when Brusha died. Endless years of toil and marching. Through forest and desert and mountains – here!” he pointed to a series of carvings as though he expected Spar could understand them. “Years of pain and misery while Geoki and Brusha and Jalma searched for just the right place to start a new life. Because they knew they would receive a sign from Door, the all-powerful sky spirit. Soon my people forgot there were other spirits who came before, bird spirits who lived in the Dead Mountain, and tree spirits who had the hearts of wolves.” Here he glanced at Spar menacingly. “As Jalma died and Tarka took his place, our people finally reached this world of eternal green growth. An abundance of food after years of famine. A land of plenty. And it was here, on this very spot that the sky spirit first spoke. He awoke from his trance and murmured ‘How beautiful.’ And Tarka took it as a sign and built our altar on this spot. 

“There were other people here when we came. Small, weak, brown-skinned men and women. The Ulu-roa, they called themselves. They knew little of weapons and hunting, and less still of the spirits. Weak fools, they worshipped every tree, every blade of grass, every passing cloud. They sang songs of tree-maidens garlanded in flowers and bird-spirits who could transform themselves from songbird to eagle in a moment’s time. They spoke of werewolves that became men by day, and bouto – river dolphins that became men by night. Fools. Heathens, or so my father’s fathers believed. They could not understand that there was only one god, only one Door to All Things.” 

“So you enslaved them.” 

“We liberated them! Freed them from fear and ignorance! Gave them the honour of tilling their fields for a true spirit, not their heathen demons. Made them part of the Hoan-G’Tay-Sho, made them also honoured by the sky spirit. Promised them... eternal life... when the change came...” now his voice grew pained. “The change... the end of death... it was supposed to come... when we had proven our loyalty, when we had awakened the Almighty with our songs of worship. Tarka was the first to speak of it. ‘He is the door through which we must all pass. He is our life and our death. And one day soon, he will close the door to death forever.’” 

“And you believed that?” Spar blurted out. 

“Why not? We all knew the power of the sky spirit. We all remembered the legends, how the Almighty had made the Dead Mountain fall, because it was no longer a fitting temple for him–” 

Spar shook her head. “You’re so wrong...” 

“What was a small thing like old age and death to the Almighty? He never aged. He never died. Surely... he could gift us with such grace as well. So they prayed, my forefathers. They prayed and prayed. But they died. Tarka withered away and his son Leoka took over as high priest. Then Leoka died, and his grandson Lallar took over. Every year, the priests watched their youth gradually melt away, and every year they thought up new way to ease the growing doubts of the common people. Our prayers were not earnest enough. Our temple was not grand enough. So they prayed harder. They built more levels on our grand ziggurat. But still... they grew old.” He lowered his head. “They... died.” 

“I’m sorry,” Spar whispered. 

“Sorry? You... monster! How dare you look at me with pity? I never want your pity! You... abberations!” 

Spar backed away nervously, and she bumped against the cold wall. 

Kamara seemed calmer now. The outburst had taken the rage from his eyes. He reached for her, as if to touch her cheek, and Spar winced, twisting her head away. Kamara let his hand fall to his side. 

“How old are you, Redcrown?” 

She ought to lie, she knew. But discretion was never her strongest suit, and she found herself telling him the truth. “I was born two years after your Dead Mountain fell.” 

A funny little sound issued from his lips. A strangled chuckle. “Over five hundred years. And Door?” 

“I am not certain. Somewhere... between ten and twenty times my age.” 

“Thousands...” Kamara whispered. “Thousands of years... unchanging. Timeless as the forest... timeless as the mountains. My father... Maina... had such faith in our ways. He knew – he knew – that he would live as long as the mountains. The ones who came before lacked faith, he said. They did not truly believe. Not in their hearts. But he did. And so he knew he would not age. And when he did... well, it was because others doubted. And their foul doubt tainted his purity. 

“When he found out that the Ulu-roa were secretly making shrines to their old gods, he punished them. When he feared his own family was beginning to doubt, he punished us as well.” Kamara indicated the puckered scar on his cheek. “From my father’s dagger, when I dared to question the divinity of the Almighty. He cut my face and rubbed ashes in the wound, then told me to be thankful that he chose to be so merciful. 

“Oh, I was a loyal son. I served the Almighty faithfully. I devoted myself to his care. I sat at his side late at night when he dreamed and listened to the whispered words that left his lips. And my father smiled upon me before he died, because I had learned true faith.” 

He smiled cruelly, and the scar distorted into an anger snake. “You know what I learned, little Redcrown? That the Almighty is no god who controls the doors of fate. That he was nothing more than a slave to some creature named Win-o-will, a spirit of such power and radiance that all were like worms before her. That he lives in perpetual fear that this Win-o-will will find him and reclaim him. That he fears! Fears – Redcrown! A god who fears! A god who cowers in terror and calls it ‘travelling within.’ And that’s where I realized: I need not be his slave. He can be mine! I can force him to give me what I desire most of all. Power over my people. Power over death itself.” 

Spar shook her head, but Kamara only laughed bitterly. “But that fool old scavenger is too far gone! He is only useful as a tool to get the rabble quiet. I bring him out like a pet monkey every few years, and they cry and dance and sacrifice to him. And as long as he dozes, he is safe to handle, and he makes a perfect captive god.” 

Now fear burned in his eyes. “But lately... the last year or two... he has begun to change. He whispers about loneliness. He whispers about flying free with the birds. He babbles about wanting company, another spirit to comfort him. What to do? What to do? There were no others. They could be no others. If the Almighty were ever revealed to be nothing but one of many... well, then we’d be no better than the heathen Ulu-roa! But he wanted a spirit. No, more human slaves wouldn’t work. Hah – gave him one of my better women once, a fine plump thing well-skilled in a whore’s arts. He never paid her more attention than another man would his donkey.” 

“What do you expect?” Spar found the courage to retort. “You cannot cross a cat and a wolf. Why do you expect a... ‘spirit’ to desire a five-fingers?” 

Kamara ignored her. “But then... then he told me that he was calling for more spirits, that spirits would come for him. And so you did! So you did! A little Goddess Redcrown for our God of the Hoan-G’Tay-Sho!” he laughed, and his mania frightened her. “But you did not come alone, did you? 

“Do you have any idea, Redcrown, how you and your spirit-kin have endangered our most sacred truths? One Almighty and none other! That is our first tenet. Oh, we can expand it to two, easily enough. A man and a woman, two halves of the whole. Yes, that is easy enough. But more? The creatures Aina described – werewolves and bouto, bird spirits and tree spirits! Were the heathens right all along? Are their spirits in every tree, every flower? Are there?” 

“Not in every tree, no.” Her bravado returned and she stepped away from the wall. “But there are many of us. And my kin will come for me, and you will not be able to stop them. You cannot keep a spirit in chains, Tall One.” 

“Tall One!” he laughed again. “Are all spirits as small as you?” 

“Not all.” 

“Hah. Cities of spirits, I suppose, living in the treetops and at the bottom of the sea. Do you keep human pets, hmm? I wonder, will you bring your own armies of ‘Tall Ones’ to cleanse the forest of our sacriledge.” 

“We want nothing to do with humans. All we ask of you is to leave us alone, let us raise our families in peace.” 

For the first time Kamara was rendered speechless. At length he stammered: “Leave you alone? Leave. You. Alone.” 

Spar saw something disturbing begin to glow in his eyes, and she backed up again, only to bump into the wall once more. 

“No sacrifices. No prayers. And no rewards for our faith. You desire none of that? You desire none of us?” A dark veil seemed to fall over his eyes, and Spar realized her life was suddenly in real danger. 

Spar tried to bolt for the door, but Kamara caught her and pinned her back against the wall. “Nothing for us? Nothing for me? My family have worshipped your kind for generations lost to time! Hundreds upon hundreds of years! Begged, grovelled, pleaded for something, some small gift! You greedy monsters – quick as lightning, ageless and beautiful, immune from time’s corruption – and you keep it all for yourselves! I’ve seen your magic. Door can shape the very bones of the rocks! You... you control the very trees! And the others – your kin, shapeshifters and sky-spirits! All this power, all this perfection! Surely it wouldn’t hurt you to share a little, just a little...” he was clutching her bare arms now, his thick fingers bruising her tender skin. “Just a little...” 

“I’m sorry,” Spar said, and she was truly grieved to see him suffer for such a delusion. “We have no such power.” 

“Liar!” Kamara shoved her against the wall. He stepped back, and his eyes roamed over her scantily-clad figure. For the first time Spar was aware of her exposed flesh, of the golden collar that only partially concealed her breasts. For the first time it occured to her that round-ears could look at elves with lust. 

“Look at you!” He pulled at the collar, snapping one of the delicate gold hoops. Suddenly he was groping her breasts, pinching her shoulders, pushing her down to the floor. He babbled, his words blurring together in a frantic cry. “All warmth and youth and perfection! One day soon Door will get you with child and we’ll have a triad of godlings in the ziggurat and everyone will cheer and dance and sing -- never mind that they will all wither away and rot while you and your mate and your filthy children will live on forever! And nothing for us? Nothing for me?” 

Spar screamed for help, screamed for him to stop. Now his weight was pressed down upon her, pinning her to the stone floor. A hand clapped hard over her mouth. 

“Well I won’t have nothing!” he was screaming in her ear as his hands tore at her flimsy skirt. His spittle fell hot on her cheek. “I know the Ulu-roa tales as well as anyone – I know how to take eternal life from a spirit-maid!” 

Spar sank her teeth into his hand. Kamara screamed and his hand released her. She twisted her head and bit him hard on the neck. He staggered off her, his hands clamped hard over the bleeding wound. Spar leapt to her feet and ran for the door. 

The human guards stared as she staggered out of the room. They saw Kamara within, moaning in pain and clutching his wounds. They saw Spar’s torn clothing and bloodstained lips. 

“Take me back to my mate!” Spar ordered breathlessly. “Take me back to Door.” 

* * * 

Door was floating under the skylight as usual when Spar raced into his chamber to tell him of Kamara’s attack. He barely acknowledged her frantic sendings, and when he did, it was only to brush her away. The Ulu-roa women clustered around Spar sympathetically. 

“The Almighty travels within,” was the only comfort Arua could offer. 

**Door!** Spar’s mind screamed again. Again there was no reply. 

Arua said nothing, but led Spar into the stone chamber reserved for bathing and the elaborate body decoration the women seemed to adore so. They stripped the wrinkled fabric and bruised feathers from Spar’s aching limbs, then drew her a bath of heated well water, perfumed with assorted spices and herbs. 

Spar began to weep as Arua washed her hair. The women make little shushing sounds, the way a mother would soothe a cub with nightmares. 

If only this were a nightmare... 

“Do not think of it,” Arua soothed. 

The brute human males Spar had observed at Thorny Mountain often joined with their women through force. Perhaps Arua and the others were often so enforced. Perhaps they thought it normal. 

Yet for Spar it wasn’t only the idea of joining by force that held such horror. 

No, there had been little genuine desire in Kamara’s eyes. Only cruelty, longing for power... the power to crush a weaker creature, like pulling the wings of a butterfly. Yes, she had seen human cubs do that once, for sport. 

It was useless to ask the women for help, useless to turn to the guards. Outside the ziggurat the people might believe that the Almighty Door was the true ruler of the Hoan-G’Tay-Sho, but inside all knew better. 

The women dried her hair and clothed her in a soft caftan that fell to her ankles. It reminded her of the woven cloth of Sorrow’s End, and she was grateful for that comforting memory. 

They fed her a light meal of roasted meat and fresh fruit, and she was too weary to maintain her fast. The sun was setting as she waved the women away and collapsed on the bed. She did not expect Door to trouble her – in the three nights she had been held captive, she had not seen him sleep – not truly sleep. Thank the High Ones he seemed to have no lust for her either. 

She wished she could send to the others, but she could not risk it. 

What she wouldn’t give to talk to her parents, to draw strength from their sendings. 

Exhausted and heartsick, she drifted into a restless sleep. 

* * * 

It was late at night when Spar awoke. Moonlight pooled on the floor and the bars on the windows cast sharp sharp shadows across the bed. She wished she had a blanket – hot as it was, she longed for another protective cloak. 

She propped herself up on her elbows. Only then did she realize another elf was asleep beside her. 

She regarded him curiously. He was a young elf, long-limbed but with a childlike face, fast asleep on his side as she had been moments before. Enshrouded in a long black caftan trimmed with blue feathers, he looked like a cubling in a leather tunic three sizes too large. His curling silver hair fell across his shoulders, aglow in the moonlight. His eyes seemed lined with kohl, so dark were his long lashes against his white skin. A hand was curled on the pillow next to his face, a little gesture Spar thought heartbreakingly vulnerable. 

It took her a moment longer to realize the elf was Door. 

How different he looked without his severe helmet, out of his god’s robes. He barely even looked like a Glider anymore, his long limbs hidden by the folds of the long caftan. A Glider child perhaps. Yes, a youth, still several summers from full growth, a cub of a mere two eights or so. 

She thought of Ekuar, a Firstborn of the High Ones, but captured by trolls at such a young age that his growth had been stunted and his face remained round and owl-like as a cub’s. Had Winnowill sunk her claws into Door when he was still a child? 

“He lives in perpetual fear that this Win-o-will will find him and reclaim him,” Kamara had said. No wonder he had thought of nothing but Winnowill when Spar mentioned Gliders. 

Spar’s hatred of her captor dissolved, melting into pity and heartache. He slept so deeply, as if he had not truly slept for years. Perhaps he hadn’t. Perhaps nightmares of Winnowill had haunted his mind until now. 

You aren’t my enemy, Spar thought. You’re not a monster like Kamara at all, are you? You’re just... an elf... a wounded elf in need of healing. 

**Sunstream,** Spar risked a lock-sending. 

**Spar? Are you all right? Why do you send – has something happened to Door?** 

**Yes... and no.** 

**We’ll find you, Spar. We’ll break you out of that stone cage.** 

**I don’t think I’m in any danger... not from Door. Take your time, Sunstream. Keep a leash on Dart and Windkin – don’t let them do anything foolish. I’ll be all right. Just find a safe way inside... and a way to heal Door. He needs our help more than our hatred.** 

Sunstream hesitated, weighing her words, trying to figure out the vaguely sour feel to her sending, a telltale sign of hidden thoughts. **All right. But be on guard, Spar. Don’t send again unless you have to.** 

**Be safe,** Spar sent, before breaking the connection. Just then Door stirred in his sleep, and Spar stiffened, fearing he had overheard her sending. But he only rolled on his back and settled again. 

Her unease rekindled in that moment, Spar considered taking a pillow and sleeping in the corner. But at length she decided it was safe enough to sleep at Door’s side. She stretched out on the bed anew, and slowly the tension left her muscles and she drifted back to sleep. 

* * * 

Sunstream led the party around the outer defenses of the Hoan-G’Tay-Sho city as the first rays of dawn crept through the Forevergreen. Windkin was still a little unsteady as he floated through the trees, and he put up little resistance whenever Sunstream ordered him to draw back and hide himself in the foliage. 

The farmlands spread out around the rock walls, framed by irrigation channels that radiated like spokes in a wheel. Before Windkin’s flight had been spotted, they might have been able to slip through the farms. But now everything was guarded by sharp-eyed scouts. Yun and Wavecatcher had snuck up on a cluster of guards the night before to observe their rituals. The humans squeezed a white sap from one of the many flowering plants into their eyes, and though they groaned in agony, their nightvision was improved by it. Windkin had run afoul of one of these drugged humans in the early morning light and was very nearly shot down again. 

“There’s no way we can scale those rocks without being seen,” Sunstream brooded. “There are just too much round-ears, and with that cursed sap in their eyes they have the eyes of wolves.” 

“If we can’t go up over, maybe we could go under,” Quicksilver said. “Pity we don’t have a rock-shaper.” 

A light appeared in Wavecatcher’s gray-blue eyes. “Maybe we don’t need one.” He climbed up to a taller branch and pointed through a break in the foliage. “Look at all those channels they’ve dug. They’ve diverted the water from the river to feed their fields... it stands to reason they have something like that inside the walls. Maybe we should be looking for a stream... or maybe an underground river.” 

Dart chuckled. “That’s the closest thing to a plan I’ve heard since we got here.” 

“All right, let’s not do anything rash,” Sunstream said. “Quicksilver, Kimo, Dart, Windkin, you four go south. The rest of us will continue north. We’ll circle the city and meet on the other side. Look for canals, wells, any sign of water that might extend under the rock wall.” He locked eyes with Quicksilver. **Keep them in line, Khai,** he locksent. **Especially Windkin. He’ll be flying off to see Door before long.** 

She smiled. **You just hang on tight to my sister before she can run at any round-ears.** 

The lifemates clasped hands in a quick farewell, then the two teams parted ways and continued on through the trees. Now the smaller, darker-skinned humans were emerging from their ramshackle homes and beginning to work in the fields. The broad-shouldered guarded continued to prowl the dust lanes and canal banks, blinking repeatedly now as the sun’s rays irritated the nightsight sap in their eyes. 

* * * 

Spar slowly awoke to a feather touch against her cheek. She stiffened instinctively, and had to force herself to relax, as if she was simply stirring in her sleep. Again she felt the hand brushed against her cheek, fingertips gently gliding up to her forehead and into her hairline. Four fingertips. 

She tried to ignore the touch, tried to feign continued sleep. But the muscles under her skin kept tensing and flexing under Door’s touch. Even an elf as... distant as Door would surely realize she was awake. 

She summoned a weak moan of wakefulness, hoping it might make Door’s hand withdraw. But it did not. Finally Spar could not delay any longer. She opened her eyes slowly, again fluttering her eyelids repeatedly, hoping to scare him away. The hand finally withdrew just as she opened her eyes. 

Door was leaning over her. He was still dressed in the loose caftan, and his silver hair fell over his shoulders, casting shadows that softened his cheekbones. He gazed down at her, whether with wistful desire or sadness, she could not tell. Vulnerability was written across his face. She could not bear to turn away. But she could not lie there, every moment holding his stare a moment of implied consent. 

She was not his mate, whatever he believed. 

At last she rolled over on her side. She felt the bed ease as Door got to his feet. 

She felt a stab of guilt in the pit of her stomach. But she could not face him. Not now. 

The women came for her after a morning meal of fruit and fragrant porridge. Once again she was stripped, bathed in scented water, and dressed in exotic finery. She recoiled as they painted symbols on her bare breasts and decorated her hair with a feathered crown. “These are the sacred markings of the sky spirit,” Arua explained patiently. 

“Can I not cover my breasts?” Spar asked, remembering Kamara’s attack. “I don’t like the men looking at me.” 

“You should not fear the gazes of your servants, Goddess Redcrown,” one of the other women said. But Spar looked at Arua pleadingly, and the leader of the women nodded. “We will find you something to wear.” 

“Kamara insisted–” the other woman hissed, but Arua shushed her. After a few moments, Arua returned with a shoulder-cape of feathers that effectively covered Spar to her ribcage. 

“Why are you dressing me like this?” 

“Kamara wishes the people to see their new goddess,” Arua explained. 

“Like a 'painted whore?'” Spar asked. She had heard the term thrown about the day before by Kamara’s snivelling pet Aina, and she guess its meaning quickly enough. When she saw the women avert their eyes, she knew she had not misinterpreted. 

Strange. Elves did not believe in such taboos. Any one of her tribemates could see her bathing and think nothing of it. Yet she knew that among the humans there was something... lascivious connected with baring and adorning the female body, and she knew Kamara was intentionally dressing her like this for his own amusement. And try as she might, she felt as uncomfortable as a human woman might, knowing she was being judged by human standards. 

And yet until the other day, she had imagined that desire between humans and elves was about as likely to happen as between elves and treewees. But now she saw leers in every man’s eyes. And she wanted to hide herself from their gaze. 

All dressed in reds and blues, she was escorted by guards to the main chamber where Kamara and Door awaited her. She refused to meet Door’s gaze. Once again he was hiding behind his helmet and feathered robes. Like a pet monkey, Kamara had said, and Spar shared his scornful view now. How could he stand there, so... passive? Had Winnowill so destroyed his mind that he could be nothing but a slave? 

Kamara turned, and Door followed meekly. Spar hesitated, and the guards jogged her into line behind Door. She kept her eyes to the floor in a sullen expression as they marched down the corridors. Her gaze turned to Door’s leather boots, and she watched how they rose and fell in slow, drugged movements. He was sleepwalking again. Did he imagine himself going somewhere – was he dreaming? Or was his mind completely closed, his steps purely instinctive? 

The humans were beating on leather drums and hollow logs. The din pounded in her ears – these five-fingers had no sense of rhythm. 

Suddenly they stood on a terrace, one of the many levels of the ziggurat. Spar’s eyes burned at the sudden sunlight, but she squinted and surveyed the wide expanse of the Hoan-G’Tay-Sho city. Men and women stood on the lower terraces, clustered around incense burners that smoked with coloured vapour. They were dressed in bright colours and decked with gold jewelry – clearly the members of the elite caste. Down the ramps and steps stood other fair-skinned humans in more modest linen clothes, and legions of scantily-clad drummers. Dark-skinned Ulu-roa filled the streets below. 

**Door. Listen to me. We could fly away. You and I. Right now. Away from the humans.** 

His sending was calm, maddeningly composed. **Why would I want to leave?** 

**Don’t you see? You’re nothing but a pet to them.** 

**I am their god. And so are you, Sohn.** 

Spar looked up. No, escape was impossible after all, she realized. Guards were everywhere on the parapets and towers, all armed with bows and blowguns. 

She glanced at Kamara. He had read her thoughts, and he smiled smugly. “You see, little spirit,” he called over the sound of the drums. “You are mine. Look, the Hoan-G’Tay-Sho are gathered for you. They wait to hear your words... but only through my lips.” 

He raised his hand and suddenly the drums fell silent. Kamara stepped forward to address the people. Guards behind Spar jogged her into position, while Door calmly stepped up to the edge of the terrace. 

“See, my people!” Kamara shouted, and his voice boomed over the city. “A new era has begun. A new way of life! For ten generations we, the Chosen People, have worshipped the One Spirit, the Almighty Door! Long has he reigned over us in silent contemplation, in solitary majesty. But now – rejoice, my people! For even as he has guarded us, protected us, and inspired us, the Almighty has long been on a journey within himself, within the spirit realm, searching for a companion, a consort with whom to share his existence. And now, behold – his call has been answered!” 

The guards nudged Spar forward again, and she heard a great unified audible gasp rise up from the crowd. “Behold your Goddess Redcrown, descended from the clouds above to be a comfort to our Almighty. No longer shall we be the Chosen People of the One, but of the Twin Spirits! And rejoice anew, for one day soon, I pray, we will worship three gods, father, mother and son! See what our god has given you, my people! See what I have given you!” 

The crowd cheered as Kamara slowly stepped back, out of sight. Spar caught snatches of “Hail Kamara” and “Hail Almighties” among the cries. She glanced up at Door, but his face was impassive as ever. 

With sudden inspiration, Spar dashed to the lip of the terrace parapet. “People of the Hoan-G’Tay-Sho–” she began, but immediately Kamara made a wave of the hand, and the drummers began their refrain anew. “Listen to your goddess!” Spar shouted, but no one could hear her over the sounds of the drums. 

She whirled on Kamara. He only chuckled. 

“I could kill you right here, in front of them all,” Spar growled, baring her canines. 

Immediately the guards clustered around Kamara, weapons drawn. “Then you would die too, little spirit. Is enlightening the rabble worth your life? I think not.” 

Spar looked at all the humans clustered around the high priest. Full-blooded Hoan-G’Tay-Sho, Ulu-roa, and mixtures of the two bloodlines, all bowing their heads in submission. “Is there no one here who is willing to stand up?” Spar demanded. “Will no one do his god’s bidding and slay this false chief?” 

No one looked up, no one met her gaze. Kamara laughed deep in his throat. “You see, ‘Spar.’ You are mine.” 

“And you?” Spar turned back to Door. “Will you stand by as he lays claim to your own mate?” 

“Of course he claims you,” Door replied distantly. “They worship us, you know. We are their gods. They cannot live without us.” 

Kamara laughed again. Spar looked out over the city helplessly. No one on the lower levels had seen what had just happened – and even if they had, they would have only spun their own self-serving explanations. And every guard who was stationed high enough in the ziggurat or on the surrounding wall of spires was Kamara’s pet. 

Spar turned and stalked back into the shade of the temple chambers. Kamara motioned for the guards to follow her. Door lingered on the terrace a moment longer, staring up at the clouds slowly passing overhead. 

“Almighty,” Kamara said softly. 

“Hm?” 

“Your mate awaits you inside.” 

“Oh... yes... of course,” Door smiled to himself. He turned and retired inside the ziggurat. Kamara glanced over at Aina, everpresent at his side. 

“Keep an eye on them both,” he growled. “Our Goddess Redcrown has many new... notions. I would not want the Almighty troubled by her strange dreams.” 

* * * 

“Listen to the drums,” Kimo breathed. Quicksilver called a halt to the party and they waited in the trees silently, listening to the sounds of revellry inside the city. 

“I wonder what’s happening,” Kimo said. 

“I don’t know,” Quicksilver frowned. “But Father always told me that human drumbeats meant death for our kind...” 

“Maybe in the old days–” Dart dismissed. 

“They’re not so long ago!” Quicksilver snapped. 

“Who are you to talk like an elder, ‘Silver? You weren’t there at Father Tree,” Windkin said. 

Quicksilver glared at him. “Maybe not,” she answered sharply. “But I’ve studied the Scroll with Sunstream and Father and I know something about humans and our kind.You might be happy to live in the Now in your moth-fabric world at Sorrow’s End, but I’ve seen the cycles of hatred and fire repeat themselves over and over throughout the history of this world! We can never relax around five-fingers, not even the tame ones in the Great Spur. And certainly not around these ones – descendants of those who made war with our kind for thousands of years.” 

Dart smiled wryly, and Quicksilver glared at him. “What?” 

“You’re your father’s daughter when it comes to humans,” he said, and Kimo and Windkin chuckled as well. They all knew the stories of Savin’s many exploits in and around human camps in the Great Spur. 

“Don’t think Mother wouldn’t do the same thing, if she were here in untested waters.” Quicksilver looked towards the rock wall. “And with Door there too... a few nuts shy of a pouch...” 

“More than a few, I’d say,” Dart said. 

“Maybe I could send to him,” Windkin offered. “I’m his kin – the closest kin he must have these days. Maybe I could–” 

“Don’t you dare! The last time you went off all reckless you almost got yourself killed.” 

Windkin glowered. “You know, I can put up with Sunstream’s lectures – just barely – but…” 

“Deal with it.” Quicksilver glanced back towards the city. “I wish I was in there... instead of Spar. You know her temper. I’m afraid what will happen to her... with the humans, with Door – if we don’t get her out soon.” 

* * * 

“You are nothing but their slave!” Spar snapped at Door. “Can you not see that? Are you blind, you old bat? He manipulates you at every turn. High Ones – didn’t you hear him when he threatened to kill me?” 

Door was once again sitting calmly in his throne, his eyes half-closed, his gaze distant. Spar paced about in front of the throne, her rage growing by the minute. Her temper was her downfall, everyone knew it. Her temper and her recklessness. She ought to retreat into the bedroom and sleep away the afternoon heat. She ought to put some distance between herself and Door until her rage cooled. But she could not stop herself. 

“You live on his charity, like a near-wolf begs for scraps around a human campfire.” 

“They worship me. They see to my every need–” 

“All you have is what Kamara has seen fit to give you! He is using you. Listen to me, Door: you know things are wrong! You told me. You said you need my help to put things back in their place. You want a restoration of the old ways, don’t you? That can’t be accomplished with Kamara sitting in power. Don’t you know what he thinks of you? You’re nothing but a pet to him – and all the Geo’kali.” 

Door shook his head. “No... no... they love me.” 

“The people love you, Door. The ones in the streets, in the lower levels. Not the temple-dwellers and the priests. Not the guards. They imprison you. They’ve made you a god in chains.” 

“You are wrong, my precious Spar.” 

“Then prove me wrong. Take me for a flight. I want to know what it’s like to fly like a Glider. Let’s go, right now, out of the temple and into the clouds.” 

A light appeared in Door’s eyes, and Spar’s hopes rose. But then the light faded and his stare became empty once more. “No...” 

“Why not?” 

“It would not be right... I am needed here... my duty...” 

“Oh yes, Door!” she burst out angrily. “Your prison needs you, how right you are!” 

Arua rushed to Spar’s side. “Be careful, dear spirit. The walls have ears.” 

“I don’t care!” Spar shoved Arua’s hand away. She glared contemptuously up at Door. “The great Almighty Door – slave to Kamara as once he was slave to Winnowill. How little the world changes.” 

Door blinked, but gave no other sign that he had heard her. It infuriated her. “You don’t deserve the love I felt out there on the terrace today!” 

“Love...?” 

“They love you, more fool them! Oh, how they would weep to know what a weakling they praise in song and prayers. They’re as blind as cave slugs – but they’re better than you, because at least they know they are slaves of the Geo’kali. You, you might as well be back at Blue Mountain, opening and closing doors for the Black Snake!” 

“Black... snake?” 

“I won’t be mate to a spineless worm.” She turned on her heel and stalked towards the bedroom. 

“Won’t...?” Door frowned. “No... No!” 

Spar felt a sudden coldness against her feet, and a cloying stickiness like wet clay. She looked down in horror as the rock floor rose up around her ankles. 

“No one leaves until I bid!” Door boomed. The rock tightened at her ankles, forming stone manacles that pinned her to the floor. 

“I am the Sky Spirit!” Door rose from his throne. “I am the One, the Almighty! I am all that remains of the Black Snake!” 

Spar fought against the pain in her ankles as she turned around to glare at him. “So you are. ” 

Door flinched at her words, and the rage faded from his eyes. “I am... all that remains...” he murmured. “All that remains...” 

He lowered his hand, and the stone melted back into the floor. Spar stumbled loose of the restraints, no worse the wear, save for a dull ache in her bare feet. Somehow she found the courage – or was it only foolish bravado – to murmur, “You’ve learned your lessons well, I see.” 

“Spar...” Door whispered. 

Spar turned and limped back to the bedroom. Door sank back into his throne, his head in his hands. 

Arua crept closer to the throne. “Almighty Door...” 

“Get out.” 

“My lord–” 

“Out! All of you! Get out! Leave me!” 

The mild women scattered. The ever-present guards hesitated, but when Door rose from his throne anew, holding his hand out, they too abandoned their posts and left their god alone. Only Aina remained, concealed in the shadows behind the woven tapestries, watching as Door bent his head and wept. 

* * * 

Spar lay down on the bed and covered herself with a cotton blanket, sealing out the daylight and plunging herself into a blessed gloom. It was hot inside her little cocoon, but she didn’t care. Heat brought exhaustion and forgetfulness. She lost track of the time, and eventually drifted off into a miserable half-sleep. When she awoke it was to the sound of muffled sobs. 

Spar slowly sat up, shucking her blanket. Door was crouched on the floor at the foot of the bed, his head bowed, his metal helm just touching the edge of the bed. 

“Door?” 

Door raised his eyes, and Spar winced to see the grief written in them, the pain. 

“Where is she?” 

“W-who?” 

“The Black Snake. Where does her spirit dwell? Is she trapped under the very rocks of Blue Mountain? Does she suffer – does she suffer as she made me suffer?” 

Spar hesitated. 

“Tell me. Tell me the truth.” 

**The truth won’t comfort you.** 

**Tell me.** 

Spar could not resist his sending. **She lives in the Palace of the High Ones, with the souls of all the Gliders. She barely remembers the evils she did. She sleeps and dreams, mostly. Now and then she awakens, only if someone powerful calls her. Sunstream... or Two-Edge. She answers him sometimes.** 

Door looked away. “Then he lost his chance for revenge.” 

“They have made peace since her death. She is... very different now. She was already dead before I was born, but they say the difference is like night and day.” 

Door scowled and bent his head. He hunched his back and Spar saw his shoulders knot up in anger. “Door?” 

Door let out a raw howl, and the entire room – no, the entire ziggurat – shook as his powers flooded through the rocks. Spar leapt back further up the length of the oval-shaped bed and looked around in horror as the tapestries swayed against the walls and the delicate clay bowls fell to the floor and shattered. 

But as soon as it begun, the shock wave ebbed. The tension left Door’s frame and he crouched on the floor miserably, weeping anew. 

“Door...” Spar reached for him. He flinched at her touch. 

“I... I remember... long ago... things I wished to do, places I wanted to explore... within. The Black Snake. She said – often – that she would help.” 

He looked up, and his eyes seemed hollow, shattered somehow. “And she did. How she did, through her cruelty. Oh, yes, my Lord Winnowill, I learned so very much, sitting, watching... marvelling at the games you played – with my people, with your own son... and with all your fragile little human pets. And with me! Especially with me!” 

“Door,” Spar tried to touched his shoulder. Again he withdrew. 

“By the High Ones – you were an excellent teacher, my mother’s father’s twin! Yes! I may have forgotten much – but I remember that! We were close blood, you and I. It amused you to work on your own flesh and blood. And how you were amused!” 

He sagged back against the edge of the bed, and Spar gently reached for him again. Carefully she removed his helmet, freeing his long silver hair. Once again she found she couldn’t hate him, couldn’t even fault him. “Shh, shh,” she soothed. 

His hands seized her arms, and he clung to her so tightly it hurt. But Spar ignored the pain and hauled him onto the edge of the bed. She brushed his hair back from his tear-streaked face and gently turned him to look at her. “Tell me,” she whispered. “Tell me what happened.” 

At first Door could only weep. Gradually fragmented sendings pierced Spar’s mind. **Took me... from my brothers... sisters... mother... said I... be her pupil – her best student – “He has promise” – “he will do well” – “You are mine, you know. To do with as I please” – “You are Door! You are Door. And you are mine.”** 

Again he broke down, and words failed him. Spar continued to stroke his hair and shush him softly, now humming snatches of the lullabies she remembered as a cub. 

**Can’t move...** Door’s sending resumed, and it seemed that his inner voice was that of a little child. **Tired... I’m tired, Winnowill.... too tired to move. No, no, it’s all right... why should I need to walk... when I can fly. Within.** 

His inner voice changed again, became cold and grating, like the voice of brittle rock. **You’re weary of my body now, aren’t you, my mother’s aunt. You’ve taken what you want from my limbs – now you want my mind!** 

And now the child spoke again. **I’m so tired... hurts... Winnowill, it hurts to move my arm.** 

And gravelly again: **Then don’t move your arm, fool!** 

The broken sendings continued, and Spar shuddered to hear the slow deterioration of Door’s body and mind. 

_I can escape... within..._

_But she’s always there..._

_Be quiet, fool._

_So tired... better to just forget..._

_Forget your body... forget your name..._

_It hurts... to remember... Winnowill, I’m afraid._

Door tore away from Spar. “What is my name, Winnowill?” he cried. “Why won’t you tell me?” 

“Shh, shh,” Spar soothed, even as the tears welled in her own eyes. “It’s all right.” 

“My parents... my sisters... why can’t I remember? All their names... all gone!” 

Spar could think of nothing to ease his pain. It was said Dewshine had never lived a day without fear during those three years that Winnowill held her soulname. And now Spar lived in fear as Door held hers. 

But at least she still knew her true name. Door did not even have that. 

“Can you remember nothing?” 

“I’ve tried! How I’ve tried! Years and years – searching, searching within. How I tried to use this long dreaming time... to find myself... or what I was...” he bowed his head. “Nothing. Scars too deep... can’t see what they cover...” 

“Door. Listen to me, please.” 

He lifted his head and his eyes seemed to focus on her for the first time in days. 

“We have to leave here. It’s not safe. It’s as sick in here as in Blue Mountain... it’s... a festering sickness. Come with me. We can go to my home – the Great Holt – the Palace. You can see Aurek – Egg – and the others. And you can be healed. We can help you. We can help you remember. But I can’t help you by myself. I don’t have the power. And as long as we’re here we’re nothing but the slaves of Kamara and the Geo’kali.” 

“I can’t go. I can’t.” 

“You have to. Don’t you understand – this place is killing you.” 

“But I can’t leave.” 

“Why not? Don’t tell me it’s your duty, don’t tell me you belong here.” 

“I’m safe here.” 

“No safer than you were with her!” 

“You don’t understand.” 

“Then help me. Tell me why.” 

**Because!** he exclaimed, and once again it seemed she heard the child speaking. **It’s safe here. It’s all rock and walls and safe! Grey stone and shadows. Outside – outside I’ll fall apart! I’ll fly apart. No – no – out there – too many voices, too many sights. Covered with green and brown scum and crawling with vermin. No!** He pulled away and got to his feet. 

“Door!” 

“No!” he snapped, and again the entire room shook with his anger. He did not look back, and stalked out of the room without a word. Spar slowly sat back on the bed. 

Some ground had been gained. So little... but a small victory nonetheless. 

It would take time. Door’s chains were heavier than she imagined. 

Where was Sunstream? Where was Quicksilver? They always knew what to do. They had managed to pacify Haken of all elves. 

Maybe she ought to wait, and do nothing until Sunstream arrived. 

But her friends were trapped outside the rock wall. Who knew how long before they could break into the city? 

And she couldn’t sit back and let Door continue to suffer. Somehow, she would find a way to reach him. 

* * * 

“...And then he dismissed all of us... but he did not see me. And he wept, for the longest time. He wept, and moaned ‘Spar’ under his breath, and more rarely, ‘Win-o-will.’ And then I saw him stagger into his private rooms, and while I did not dare follow, occasionally I could hear him and the goddess speaking.” Aina swallowed. “A-and then I heard him roar – a wordless roar – and that was the first tremor. And then he was silent a while, and then he shouted: ‘What is my name, Win-o-will?’ And a few minutes later he shouted ‘No!’ and that was the second tremor. And then he was silent again, my lord. And then... then I heard nothing more, and I came to you directly.” 

Kamara scowled as he gazed out over the city. The sun was setting now, and he could hear the chorus of night birds warming up in the distant jungle. 

“I-I did not dare intrude further, my lord,” Aina’s voice trembled. 

“No, you did well. We all felt the ziggurat shake. And he sealed Redcrown’s feet in stone, did he?” 

“Yes, m’lord. When she said she would not be his mate. But he let her go, and then he began to weep.” 

“She is proving most difficult,” Kamara muttered under his breath. 

Aina continued as if he had not heard him. “The Sky Spirit is indeed awakening. I have never seen him like this in all my years of serving him – o-of serving you, my lord. Perhaps... perhaps the time your fifth-forefather foretold is at hand. The Change. Perhaps now at last... our generations of worship will be rewarded–” 

“You don’t believe that drivel, do you, Aina? I thought you better than that.” 

“My lord? I-I don’t understand.” 

“No. You wouldn’t.” 

“My lord?” 

Kamara turned away from the window. “I think I may have made a mistake. Redcrown... perhaps she is a false goddess... a heathen spirit – a demon like the bouto and the werewolves... sent to lead our god astray.” 

Aina shuddered. “Lord Kamara?” 

“Think of it, Aina. A demon... a false god to bewitch our One Spirit... and then – then to whelp a demon-child... a false savior to enslave the Chosen People. Perhaps... perhaps she’s not even a real spirit, but a witchery conjured by some heathen Ulu-roa sorceress. Perhaps all the spirits you saw were mere illusions.” 

“Is that possible?” 

“I would put nothing past a dark-skinned savage. Your people have never fully submitted to the yoke of divine rule, have they?” 

He bristled. “My lord, I am a loyal servant of the One Spirit. Though my blood may be forever tainted, my soul is pure – I claim no kinship with the heathen dogs who worship their godless idols!” 

Kamara chuckled. “No, Aina. You have always been a loyal servant.” 

“What must we do, my lord?” 

“I think... we must watch her very closely. If we have indeed made a mistake, we may have to act... swiftly. No one must be allowed to disturb the sacred contemplation of the Almighty. We must not allow that to happen! Do you understand?” 

“You mean–” 

“I mean we may have to send Redcrown back into the realm of the spirits.” 

“My lord!” he lowered his voice to a mere whisper. 

“Don’t be a fool, Aina. What good are spirits that will not be gods? And if this ‘Spar’ does not prove to be the goddess we have awaited... then I promise you, I will rid us of this false spirit myself.”


	4. Alteration

The night brought with it a sheeting rain that blurred the landscape and hindered the night watchmen. Quicksilver lead Sunstream and Wavecatcher down to the ground and through the wet underbrush. “It’s through here,” she whispered, for they were still afraid to send openly with Door around. 

They edged across the machete-cleared scrubland at the outer perimeter of the farmlands and took refuge inside a lean-to of thatch sheilding farm tools from the rain. “Look over there,” Quicksilver said. She pointed, and they squinted to see in the dim light. They could see the night watchmen patroling the farmlands, and the faint outlines of the shambling farm huts. At first Sunstream couldn’t see what she was indicating, but then his eyes adjusted, and he saw an irrigation canal bisecting the largest plots. His eyes followed it towards the rock wall, and he saw a wide pool, perhaps ten feet across, hugging the outskirts of the rocks. 

“I’m not with you,” he murmured. But Wavecatcher was already ahead of him. 

“Look at the current,” the mer-elf said. Sure enough, the channel was flowing out from the pool at a gentle pace. “That’s not just a pool, it’s a spring.” 

“How does that prove it leads into the city?” 

“It doesn’t... yet,” Wavecatcher murmured. Quicksilver nodded. 

“Wait a minute–” 

“I can do it, Sunstream. That channel’s more than deep enough. And the rain should be enough to keep them from seeing me – even with that nightsight sap.” 

“I don’t know–” 

“Give me a few moments, nothing more. Let me see what happens when I go into the pool. If there’s nothing there, I’ll be right back. If there is... I’ll have a quick look, that’s it.” 

“And if someone sees you, they can spear you like a longfish on a pike. Or you could get trapped underwater somewhere. You might look it, but you can’t actually breathe underwater!” 

“No, but I can shame your average river otter – your average slap-tail, for that matter. Look, we can’t play it safe forever, Sunstream. Not if we want to get Spar out of there.” 

Sunstream looked at Quicksilver. She nodded. “It’s the best chance we’ve got.” 

Sunsteam brooded in silence. At length he nodded. “In and out. Don’t dawdle. And don’t you dare send to Yun. If she knows you’re trying this she’ll be out here in a heartbeat.” 

Wavecatcher left the safety of the lean-to and crept to the edge of the canal. Without a sound, he shaped himself a long tail and slid into the water. He barely made a ripple, and the everpresent guards continued to patrol the fields, blissfully unaware. 

Quicksilver gave her lifemate’s hand a squeeze. Sunstream tried to summon a confident smile, but he failed. They crept out from under the lean-to and waited in the rain. Their keen eyes could just barely make out Wavecatcher’s form as he slowly swam up the canal. 

**If he does find a way in,** Sunstream locksent to Quicksilver, **what about the rest of us?** 

**If there is a spring inside the city – and it would make sense that the Hoan-G’Tay-Sho would build their settlement over one – then you’d think it would be a pretty simple channel leading to the fields outside, wouldn’t it? I mean, didn’t Door shape the wall just to keep out other humans or wild animals? So if it’s just a quick swim underwater... we could make it.** 

**I hope you’re right. It’s the best shot we’ve found so far.** 

They waited impatiently, listening to the rain sheeting down around them. Time slipped by far too slowly. Then they saw Wavecatcher’s silver form slowly swimming towards them. The elf pulled himself out of the canal and shaped his legs back. 

He was out of breath, and he could only manage a faint nod. Suddenly they heard shouts from the human guards. Three broad-shouldered round-ears were converging on his location. 

“Puckernuts!” Sunstream growled. **Dart, Kimo, Yun, Windkin, get down here! Weapons drawn!** He and Quicksilver drew their short-swords and picked up long sheaves of the tough rainforest bark used to make the lean-to’s roof. 

Wavecatcher dove behind Sunstream and Quicksilver, and they raised their shields to protect him. “Can you run?” 

“Let’s go!” Wavecatcher scrambled back to his feet. 

They ran for the trees as blowgun darts struck the sides of their shields. The elves were faster, but the humans had greater strides, and they were steadily gaining as the elves raced for shelter. 

“Where are the others?” Quicksilver shouted as she swung her bark-shield around, trying to protect everyone’s backs. 

Suddenly a second contigent of humans appeared out of the scrub, blocking their retreat to the trees, swords raised. These ones weren’t about bother trying to capture them. 

Just then three Wolfriders dropped from the trees, while a large black wolf sprang from the underbrush. The wolf flung himself on the largest human and hamstrung him with a snap of his fearsome jaws. Dart and Yun brandished their swords and cleaved a path for the fleeing elves through human flesh. “Come on!” Windkin cried, as he flew over the battle. He swung down and caught Quicksilver, then pulled her up into the air. 

“Hey!” Sunstream snapped. But now the wolf had reached him, and Sunstream and Wavecatcher bounded onto his back. Kimo bore them back into the jungle at breakneck speed, while Yun and Dart covered them. Wavecatcher cried out as a blowgun dart struck his bicep. But moments later they were safely in the cover of the trees. Sunstream and Wavecatcher scrambled off Kimo’s back and climbed up into the trees. Kimo shaped back into an elf and hurried after them. Dart and Yun were close behind them. Windkin swept down and scooped up his former lovemate, and Dart bounded up into the trees just as an arrow struck the underbrush next to his foot. The humans pursued, hacking through the underbrush. But within moments they had lost their quarry. They backtracked just below the elves’ perch several times before they abandoned the search and returned to the fields. 

* * * 

“Ahh,” Wavecatcher winced as Quicksilver removed the dart from his arm. Blood mingled with a strange oily sap around the pinprick wound. 

“I’ve got to get the poison out before it reaches your heart,” she said. “But this is going to hurt.” 

He nodded. Quicksilver bent her hand and sunk her teeth into the wound, sucking out the venom. Wavecatcher grit his teeth and held his tongue. Quicksilver turned and spat out the poison, then wedged her fingernails around the wound and squeezed the skin until blood and whitish oil welled up. She repeated the treatment, until only blood rose when she squeezed the wound. Quicksilver turned and spat several more times to clear any residual venom from her mouth, then snatched a handful of leaves from a nearby branch and pressed them against the wound. “Wish I could make a real poultice for you, but I don’t trust any of these plants. Here,” she tied the makeshift banadage about his arm with a spare leather thong. “It’s ugly, but it should keep the dirt out until it scabs over.” 

“I’ve had worse bites from the bugs around the Green River,” Wavecatcher joked, but his face was a little pale. 

“Your head might spin a little – some of the venom probably escaped. But you shouldn’t run a fever like Windkin.” 

Yun sat behind Wavecatcher, and now she wrapped her long arms and legs around him protectively. “You’re never doing anything that stupid again unless I’m with you,” she insisted, and she dropped a kiss to his bare shoulder. “I hope it was worth it.” 

“What did you find?” Sunstream asked now. The others clustered around him expectantly. 

“Well, it’s pretty dark in there, but I followed the bottom of the canal into the pool, then decided to hug the bottom of the pool as well. The pond’s about... twice again my height deep. I could feel a pretty strong current, so I followed it. I bumped my head on a rock, actually, so I’ll probably be dizzy from that before the venom in the dart–” 

“Oh, Wavecatcher,” Yun fretted, and again kissed his shoulder in comfort. 

“–But I found what we were looking for.” 

“A way in?” Sunstream asked. 

“Uh-huh. A little tunnel, just wide enough for one elf to manage at a time. It cuts in a straight line through the rock at the bottom of the pool. You go straight for... oh, six strokes, then you hang a sharp turn and start swimming upwards. And when you surface...” he grinned. “A little pool inside a cave, light up by a few torches and guarded by two sleeping lander thugs! And a deep canal that leads upstream through a wide rock-shaped tunnel. You were right, Quicksilver. They built their city right on top of a spring, and Door shaped all the rocks around the stream that flows out.” 

“Did they see you?” 

“The guards? Fat lumps of meat fast asleep. They didn’t see a thing.” 

“Then we have a way in!” Windkin exclaimed. 

“Let’s not rush things,” Sunstream said. “We’ll still have to figure out how to swim the length of that canal without being caught – and without running out of breath.” 

“Cover of darkness is little good with them and their nightsight sap,” Dart said glumly. 

“It’s still better than daytime.” 

“We’re forgetting something, Quicksilver,” Kimo said. “The humans just caught us nosing around the channel. They didn’t see you in the water, did they, Wavecatcher.” 

“No. At least... I don’t think so.” 

“They’ll be expecting we’ll strike here again.” 

Sunstream nodded. “He’s right.” 

Dart smiled wryly. “So we should probably spend this coming day making them think we’ll hit somewhere else.” 

Windkin grinned. “You have something in mind?” 

“We’ll go north,” Quicksilver said. 

“Right. The other side of the city. We’ll make them think that we’ve given up the south end. We’ll play Mantricker for the round-ears and kept ‘em guessing all day long. Then tomorrow night, we hit the water.” 

Sunstream nodded. “Yes. But we can’t take on the Hoan-G’Tay-Sho and Door with little sleep. Let’s get up higher in the trees and sleep until dawn. Let the guards change shifts in the morning. Then we’ll get to work.” 

* * * 

“She always said... I had great promise. But I never lived up to my potential. I was weak. I let myself be pulled too easily, she said. I had no will of my own. So I pushed back. I was ungrateful, she said. I was arrogant. I had to be broken.” 

Spar listened in horror as Door continued his reverie. Dawn was breaking outside the window as they reclined on the bed, propped up by pillows and folded blankets. After he had left her the evening before, Spar had not expected to see him return, but she had awoken late in the night to find him once again fast asleep next to her. The early morning chatter of the jungle creatures had awoken them both, and after another deep sleep, Door now seemed in a more lucid state. How long that would last she could only guess. 

She wanted to beg him to stop, to speak of something else. But she was spellbound. His disjointed narrative was vague, often laced with riddles, but slowly Spar was beginning to assemble a picture of the years he had spent as Winnowill’s “student.” 

Simple emotional enslavement to begin; isolation from his family when he was still a child, followed by the carefully plotted trauma of early initiation, and all the manipulations only a healer could affect. Pleasure blurring to pain and back to pleasure, forcing him to hatred, devotion, insecurity, and a desperate need for approval. 

He was her helpless slave, less a lovemate than a plaything, to be used and discarded at will. And then, once Winnowill became bored with the simple conquest he had become, new forms of manipulation and torment. 

“‘You are my Door. Door. Say it. You are my Door.’” 

Pain when he refused, delight when he complied. 

“‘I will make you the greatest rockshaper, the most powerful of the Gliders.’” 

Slow and methodical sapping his will, as she teased his physical strength into mental power. 

“It hurt... but she said I was a coward. I was resisting. And that was why there was pain. I had to submit. I had to stop fighting...” 

How simple. A healer’s powers combined with skilled emotional torture, all applied so subtly that by the time he realized what was happening, it was already too late. 

“Let me go, Winnowill...” he whispered, letting his eyes fall closed. And then he chuckled low in his throat. “And she said: ‘If I won’t pity my own whelp, why do you think I would spare a thought for you?’” 

Spar found herself clutching his hand tightly. “Door...” she breathed softly, at a loss to say more. 

“She never spoke to me again... save to order me to work the door. I was... nothing now. A piece of furniture. A tool. ‘You are mine...’ she once said, so long ago. ‘I will take care of you when all others abandon you... I am all you have... you are nothing without me.’” Again the bitter laugh. “And I believed her. But... in the end I was nothing with her. And she was always there. Even when I went within, dug myself a grave, smothered myself in darkness. But she was always there. I could... feel her, lodged behind my eyes. For years... she was all I saw.” 

“What happened? What changed.” 

“I saw... the wolf chief?” 

“Swift?” 

His eyes darkened. “She was the first to awaken me. I suppose... I owe her a debt.” 

Spar sat up. “Awaken you? How?” 

“The Mountain was falling... the Egg... it was not... right. Winnowill was gone, everything was falling apart. But I stayed at my post. I stayed at my duty. I knew nothing but duty. Intruders – savages. They had tried to break into my Lord’s chambers. I had one caught – a fly in a spider’s web – a stone web.” 

Spar nodded. She knew the tales well. “Skywise.” 

“I would not open for anyone but Winnowill... and the other... the archer with the powerful sendings.” 

“Strongbow.” 

“Yes. He – he could reach me. The others – they beg me to open, but all I hear is buzzing – buzzing in my mind like little insects. I swat them away. But then... the wolf chief is sending.” He frowned. “I can hear her. Buzzing, buzzing little thing. ‘Door, open! Winnowill’s gone! You’re free! Open! There’s nothing left to protect. You’ll die. We’ll all die! Open!’ Buzz buzz buzz. I don’t believe a word of it. I don’t hear – I don’t hear her. And then...” 

He began to send a memory of Swift’s next move, and Spar stiffened at the intensity of it. **“Cursed moss-brained Glider!”** Pain! Sudden awareness! **“You’ll open this slab or I’ll open YOU!!”** Vicious, brutal thoughts. A snarling wolf. **“And you’ll be awake for it – believe me!”** 

But in sending there is only truth. And Door opened the wall, releasing Skywise. 

Spar shuddered. She knew the blood that flowed in Swift’s veins, but she had never imagined her cousin was capable of such brutality, such primal violence. 

Door continued the sending, relaying clipped bursts of sendings from Swift as she hauled him and Skywise from the Egg. **“Move! Move, curse you! You’ll shape that rock or I’ll shape your insides! Now! Do you want to die, you withered worm? Now move! Work faster, Door! I see light! Light – have you forgotten what real sunlight looks like! Come on, just a little further!”** At times cajoling, at times ruthless, Swift shoved and wrenched his mind just as she dragged his body, until they were out safely. Moments later, the Egg fell. 

“I... I lay on the ground – they forgot about me once they pulled me to safety – and I looked up at the sky,” he continued aloud. “And it was so... big. All white and golden and vast. I saw the sun... hanging high above. First time in... ages. Maybe I had never seen it before – ever. The world was so much bigger than I ever imagined. And I looked up at the sky... and I thought it would pull me up into it. And I thought I would fly apart without the walls to hold me in.” 

“I was afraid. And I retreated. And I was safe again – within. The elves tried to wake me, but I would not come back. Swift didn’t bother with me again. No one did.” 

Spar licked her lips. “Swift had... her own worries.” 

“No one cared about me... except the humans. They took me in. They cared for me. They helped me remember... what it means to live... what it means to be awake.” 

“But don’t you see, Door? You aren’t awake yet. This is all a bad dream that’s clinging to you. You can’t be healed here – no matter how hard the humans wish it. There are some things that can only be achieved with your kin. With other elves.” 

“That’s why you’ve come to me, Sohn.” 

Still she flinched inwardly at his casual use of her soulname. “I did not mean to give that name.” 

“Then why did you?” 

“I didn’t. You...” Spar paused. She was about to say “You forced it from me” but she realized it was not entirely true. No, he had not taken it. “When I heard your sending... I felt... compelled. I did not want to... but I did.” 

Door smiled. “Your heart knew the truth, my sweet, even if your head did not.” 

“What truth?” she asked. 

Door slipped his arms about her waist, and Spar struggled not to expose her lingering discomfort as he buried his face in her hair and murmured: “That we are meant to be together.” 

No. He was wrong. If his sending hadn’t been so forceful, she never would have given up her true self and he would not have this hold over her. 

This wasn’t Recognition. He wasn’t her lifemate. 

Yet... there was something between them... something she could not put into words. 

Something she did not entirely mind. 

No, she pitied him, that was all. No fondness, no affection, certainly no love. 

No... no love. 

“Door?” 

“Hmm?” 

“Will you give me a present?” 

“Of course.” He sat up. “Anything. What do you desire?” 

“Order Kamara to stop his pursuit of my friends.” 

“But... you want them brought here.” 

“Yes, but not as prisoners of humans – do not delude yourself, Door, they will not allow themselves to be brought here by force. Tell Kamara to stand down. Then invite my friends to come here, by their own free will.” 

“They will try to take you away from me.” 

Spar smiled disarmingly. “I won’t let them. And they will not take me against my will. That is not our Way.” 

Door hesitated. “Please, Door,” Spar said softly. “Let them in.” 

“And you won’t try to leave with them?” 

**Not without you. I promise.** 

In sending there was only truth, and Spar was amazed to realize that she really meant what she sent. 

Door touched her cheek, and Spar did not flinch. At length he nodded. 

* * * 

Spar hid herself in the next room when Kamara answered the summons to the throne room. It would not be wise to provoke the man now. Kamara would be angry enough already once he learned what his “pet” wanted. 

Perhaps he already suspected what Door wanted of him, for Kamara waited until late in the afternoon before he finally arrived. 

“Ah... it is good of you to visit me, Kamara,” Door said. There was a hint of annoyance in his voice which Kamara ignored. 

“I was bidden, Almighty,” he said smoothly. “And so I answered. I always heed the call of the Almighty.” 

“Eventually.” 

“Is there anything you desire?” 

“Oh, I have all that I need... all things but one.” 

Kamara waited. When Door said no more he cleared his throat. “Yes?” 

“My mate desires company. But I fear my efforts to... escort her companions into the city have only alienated them. I do not wish to alienate the other spirits. I wish them to come here of their own free will and live with me in peace. I want you to abandon your efforts to retrieve the other spirits. I will call to them on the spirit plane and invite them here. You will make no effort to restrain them when they come.” 

Kamara flinched. Though she could not see around the corner, Spar could practically hear his spine snap back in indignation. “Almighty, I fear that is most unwise. These spirits are not gentle like your Goddess Redcrown. They are violent creatures. They have wounded and killed several of my guards – your guards. I fear for your safety if they are allowed inside the city walls.” 

Door chuckled low. “I think I can be trusted to tend to my own safety, Kamara. I am your Almighty, after all.” 

“These are no ordinary spirits, Almighty. In fact... when I hear the reports of my men, I am reminded of the demons the heathen Ulu-roa once worshipped before you showed them the truth of the Sky Spirit. I fear... I fear these ‘companions’ of your mate may be nothing more than false friends, creatures of the night sent by our enemies to destroy us. My lord, these demons present a grave threat to us all.” 

For a moment Spar feared Kamara’s smooth words might sway Door – he had been moved by far less. But after a pause Door only said: “You can trust your god, Kamara.” 

“My lord... I fear you may be misplacing your trust.” 

A pause. “Choose your words carefully, Kamara.” 

Again he cleared his throat. “Almighty, I worry. You have been... most different of late, since your mate came to you.” 

“Yes....” Affection in his voice. “She has reawakened me.” 

“Or has she simply woven a web of dreams about you?” 

“What are you saying?” 

Spar heard a soft thud as Kamara prostrated himself on the stone floor. “My lord... I am ashamed. I fear I may have misjudged your Redcrown. When I found her, and she said ‘Take me to my mate’ I rejoiced and brought her here without thinking. I should have considered her bestial companions. I should not have ignored my inner voice. Almighty Door – Redcrown’s desires will only endanger you. She is not a worthy mate of a Sky Spirit, and I beg pardon that I brought her here to so threaten your peace.” 

Door hesitated. When he spoke again, his voice was softer. “Yes... she does threaten my peace. I am changing – I feel it in my bones. The old life is dying...” 

“She is killing you. She is destroying the safety you have built yourself.” 

“Yes. More and more... I am remembering... things I would rather not.” 

“Of course. And it pains you, doesn’t it?” 

“Yes.” 

“Almighty, I worry. Now that I see you today, I have genuine fear for you. This... this she-spirit is no fit mate for you. She does not support you. She does not serve you as a good woman should. No, she seeks to change you. She seeks to twist you to her purposes.” 

“No... not like that.” 

“Yes! Just like that. Oh, piety has held my tongue until now, but I can bear it no longer.” 

“She is... a good mate. She is helping me...” 

Now Spar heard real doubt in his voice, and she wondered if the sendings they had shared were really enough to break the hold the humans had perfected over five hundred years. 

“By forcing you to become something you do not wish to be? By remaking you in her image. I know of another false spirit that so abused you – her name was Win-o-wil!” 

Spar held her breath. Kamara had played his hand well indeed. 

A pause. Then: “Winnowill?” 

“You remember how you hated her. You remember how you feared her. You remember... the torments.... the pain. Don’t let yourself be ruled by another Win-o-wil, Almighty. Don’t become a slave to Redcrown’s desires.” 

Door made a sound, a low murmur in his throat, and for a moment Spar feared the worst. Then the murmur became a chuckle, and she relaxed. Then the chuckle became a roar. 

“You dare mention her name? You dare compare my mate to the Black Snake?” 

The floor shook. The entire ziggurat quaked. 

“M-my lord god–” 

“You will be silent! For generations – long before you were born – I was slave to your people – slave to you as I was slave to Winnowill! Oh, how well you and the Geo’kali fed me your poison and kept me asleep, to dream only the dreams you saw fit to give me! No more! My mate has awakened me to your lies! Your reign is over!” 

“But... but...” 

“I am the one they worship! It is I they pray to – not some grotesque five-finger! You have kept me silent too long. Now it is I who speak. And you, Kamara, will listen!” 

“I will not! I will not heed the ravings of a spirit gone mad!” 

“Then I will find a new high priest.” 

“Door–” 

“Get out!” 

Spar heard Kamara’s footsteps as he stalked out, more enraged than cowed. She bit her lip and leaned back against the stone wall. Closing out all distractions, she sent a desperate lock-sending for Sunstream. 

**Sunstream, hurry.** 

**Spar... what’s happened.** 

**Please, hurry. I thought I was helping, but I’ve just made things much worse.** 

* * * 

Kamara called Aina to his room. After he had explained the situation, Aina nodded gravely. “I understand. Shall I recall the search parties?” 

“You’ll do no such damn thing.” 

“My lord?” 

“You will continue to search for the demons. The guards will shoot to kill. Under no circumstances are those... those creatures to be allowed to enter the city walls. They will only bring further confusion and madness with them. I cannot allow the Almighty to be corrupted.” 

Aina hesitated. “Yes, my lord.” 

“And I want you to watch the Sky Spirit’s rooms closely. I want you to let me know the moment Goddess Redcrown is alone.” 

“My lord?” 

Kamara moved to a side table and downed a cup of syrupy wine. “The moment she is alone, away from the Almighty. Understand?” 

Aina swallowed. “Yes, my lord. But...” 

“What?” 

“Are you certain?” 

Kamara chuckled deep in his throat as he removed a black knife from the little wooden box on the table. “Very.” He ran his fingertip over the edge of the obsidian blade, and he smiled at the sight of his own blood welling up in a thin stream. 

“I’ve indulged that bitch long enough,” he muttered. “The reign of spirits is at an end.” 

* * * 

“Door!” Spar chased after him. The Glider had been pacing restlessly ever since Kamara left, growling under his breath about Winnowill and humans and Blue Mountain. 

“A cleansing... must have a cleansing... put everything in its place.” 

“Door, stop. Calm down.” 

“I am the Sky Spirit. Yet I have been their slave. And you – you, my sweet, have opened my eyes. No more. No more will I be enslaved. No... it’s time for a cleansing!” He sent out a ringing cry. **Fellow spirits! Kin of my mate! Come to the city! Let us work together to purge the evil of the Hoan-G’Tay-Sho!** 

“Door, listen to me.” Spar touched his arm. 

“No!” Door threw her off roughly, and she fell back to the floor, landing hard on her side. She rolled over and crouched on her knees. Her lip curled back in a snarl. 

“Is that all you have in you, Glider?” 

But the rage had already left Door’s eyes. Now he was pacing again, muttering to himself. “Time for renewal.... yes... one must first destroy in order to gain control. The more one tears down, the more one can create...” 

“That’s Winnowill talking,” Spar growled. 

“Yes... the dark mother taught me well...” 

“You’re not her slave anymore. You’re not the humans’ slave anymore!” 

“I have decisions to make...” 

Spar got to her feet. As Door turned towards her in his pacing, she struck him hard across the face. 

Still lost in his trance, Door barely noticed. Enraged, Spar struck him again. When she brought her hand back for a third blow, Door caught her wrist in a vise-like grip. His eyes focused on her at last, and they burned with smoldering hate. 

“So there’s one thing that still reaches you,” Spar breathed. 

Door released her hand and stepped back. “I... I didn’t... didn’t mean.” 

“Can you do nothing but rage or hide within? I’m trying to help you, Door, though only the High Ones know why!” 

“Must regain control...” he stammered, wrenching his skullcap from his head. 

“You’ve never had control of the Hoan-G’Tay-Sho, don’t you understand that?” 

“Hoan-G’Tay-Sho?” he frowned. “No... not of them...” 

“Door,” her expression softened. “Come sit with me. I don’t want you drifting away again. Please.” 

“We go forward, we go back...” he whispered, and she read the telltale signs in his face. He was already beginning to retreat within. “We push or we let ourselves be pulled. I was always too weak to push back. Always... she used to say...” 

She seized his hands in hers. “Sometimes it’s not weakness to let ourselves be pulled.” 

Door relunctantly followed as she backed up towards the bed. His steps began more uncertain until at last his strength failed and he swooned against her. 

“Augh... you weigh as much as a human,” she complained as she finally set him down on the bed. “Arua!” she shouted. “Bring fruit and wine! The Almighty is hungry!” 

The Ulu-roa women rushed in bearing food and drink. Spar poured Door a cup of wine, collected several small melons and a piece of smoked meat, then shooed the humans away. “Close the door behind you, and do not return unless bidden. Let no one enter, especially not Aina or Kamara.” 

Arua nodded. “Do not worry, Spar.” 

“Here, drink,” Spar insisted, offering Door the cup. “You need your strength.” 

Door reluctantly drank, grimacing at the taste. “I hate this wine.” 

“I know. It could stand to be boiled down. But you need something a little richer than water. One day, when you’re better, I’ll take you to my father’s Holt. I have a tribemate, Littlefire, who can brew the best wines – dreamberry, plainsberry, red plums – anything for your mood. Littlefire is Egg’s son, you know.” 

“Egg... has a son?” 

“Mm-hm. He’s a fine tribemate... if a little odd. But no odder than you, old bird,” she added wryly. “Actually, I think you’d like him. You should come with me. We can travel to the Evertree together. It’s just a little ways from where Blue Mountain used to be.” 

Door said nothing, but dutifully ate his meal. When he cleaned his plate, Spar urged him to lie down. “Sleep. You’ll feel better.” 

“I can’t sleep.” 

“Of course you can. It’s almost dusk anyway.” 

“Already?” 

“Kamara kept us waiting, remember?” 

“I can’t sleep,” Door insisted. “I can’t face the blackness.” 

“But I’ve seen you sleep.” 

He smiled sadly. “It’s easier now. I’m not alone anymore.” He touched her cheek. “I have you in there with me. You help me chase her away... sometimes.” 

“You can’t always depend on me, Door. I may not always be here.” 

A desperate light seized his eyes and he caught her wrist. “You promised you wouldn’t leave me! You swore!” 

“We do not always have a choice in the paths we take. Your Black Snake swore she would never let you escape, but in the end she could not hold you.” 

He looked down, sullen now, almost childishly churlish. Spar touched his shoulder gently. “You can’t depend on another to fulfill you. Not even... a mate. Mates complement each other, they do not define each other. You have to find yourself. And you will, Door. That I can promise. There’s a light inside you, in that darkness of yours. And when you find it, it’ll chase the Black Snake away, it will clear out the shadows and you will never be afraid again.” 

Door shook his head sadly. 

“It is there,” she insisted. “I’ve seen that light appear in your eyes. Only for a moment or two. And then it fades. You have to catch it, hold onto it.” She felt a strange tightness in the pit of her stomach and she continued in a rush, “Door, no elf deserves to suffer like this – not even the Black Snake. Yes, the Black Snake,” she repeated when he glared at her. “Revenge isn’t the answer. Winnowill is healed now, and she would weep if she remembered what she has done to you. Door, you have to let go of the past. Don’t you see, you’re only walking in circles in that room of yours, looking for that door. Look for the light instead – it’s there.” She felt a lump growing in her throat and imagined emotion was getting the better of her. She fell silent then and simply sat with him, waiting for the moment to pass. But the lump in her throat continued to rise, a pressure at the back of her mouth – insistent, begging release. She parted her lips and the pressure eased, escaping as a sound. 

“Fenn...” 

Door looked up. “What?” his eyes were wide, his voice hoarse. “What did you say?” 

Spar blinked. “I...” She frowned, trying to put into words what she had felt as she spoke the sound. 

Door seized her bicep tight. “What did you call me?” 

“Fenn,” she repeated. “Your name... who you are inside. At the core... you are Fenn.” 

“Fenn...” he breathed. “My name is... Fenn.” His eyes lit up. “My father was... Arvoll. My mother was... Vannarin – third daughter of Runya, son of Haken. My sisters... there were three. Anyeean, Aroris, Anvaleel. My family... there were six of us... until she took me away! She took my name. My name – Fenn. I am Fenn!” 

His face crumpled into a mask of combined sorrow and joy, and he buried his face against Spar’s shoulder. Spar held him tight, shushing him gently as he wept in relief. 

* * * 

The human guards raced through the undergrowth, slicing at ferns and shrubs with their machetes. The howling continued, all around them. They heard lupine growls in the underbrush. Stones and berries pelted down on them from above, but when they looked, there was only the green understory. 

“Blast it! Where are the demons?” 

“I saw the black wolf go in here. He has to be here.” 

“Lord Kamara will have our hides if we let them escape.” 

Another rain of stones fell on them. The leader of the party roared and fired off an arrow. It lodged in a tree high above them. Mocking laughter followed the stones. 

“Damn them all to the endless night!” the leader swore. “Come on, you fools. They have to be nearby. That damned wolf can’t climb trees, can it?” 

* * * 

High above in the understory Kimo struggled to restrain his laughter. Dart snickered and gave him a friendly punch to the shoulder. Sunstream chuckled. “If my great-grandsire Mantricker could only see us now...” 

Quicksilver threw a pebble into the trees. It clattered across a tree trunk then fell down to earth. The humans swore in the distance. 

A moment later Yun, Wavecatcher and Windkin appeared, racing across the highways of branches. They dropped into position next to Sunstream. “We’ve got the humans chasing their own tails,” she announced cheerfully. “They’re practically deaf – they could shoot at our laughter forever and never hit anything.” 

“All the same, I think we’ve done enough,” Sunstream said. “We’ll move east and harass the next party a little. I think that should be enough to convince them that we’re intent on entering the city by the north.” 

**Sunstream...** Spar’s distant sending touched his mind. 

**Spar – how are you doing?** 

**Be careful. Door has abandoned his war against you but the humans haven’t. And Door’s starting to realize more and more than he has no control over them.** 

**We’ve got our way in. By dawn tomorrow we’ll be with you. Hold on. Don’t provoke Door or the humans.** Sunstream closed the connection with Spar and turned back to the others. “She’s closing off a large part of her mind to me – probably to keep Door out – though I’m not sure. Her sendings are getting... strange.” 

“How?” Dart asked. 

“The only way I can put it is... they... smell different. Like she’s changed... inside.” 

“High Ones only know what that monster Door has done to her,” Yun growled. “Five days with him now, he could have twisted her mind to believe anything. How do we know he isn’t using her to get us right where he wants us?” 

Windkin frowned. “We all heard Door’s sending. Surely... in sending there is only truth?” 

“Don’t warm to him just because he’s your kin,” Yun said. 

“He lied in sending already,” Quicksilver said thoughtfully. “He sent Sunstream that vision of a haven for our kind. And you hear what he called us.” 

“‘Fellow spirits,’” Windkin whispered. “You spend enough years treated as a god and you start to believe it.” 

“‘Kin of his mate,’” Quicksilver corrected gently. “What will he do when we insist that Spar doesn’t belong to him?” 

Sunstream nodded. “We go in assuming Door is still our enemy.” 

“And if we cross paths with him?” Yun asked. “Shoot to kill?” 

“No. Not unless there is no other way. Times may have changed since the old days when we all said ‘No elf has ever killed another,’ but I will not have that Glider’s blood on my hands, understand? Dart? Yun?” 

Yun nodded reluctantly. “But I won’t have any of our blood on my hands, either.” 

“We kill in self-defense only. Immediate self-defense. That goes for humans too.” 

“You’re too soft-hearted, sometimes,” Dart said. 

“I’m chief today, Dart,” Sunstream said calmly. 

Dart nodded. In the end, it was the Way, and that was all that mattered. 

“When?” he asked next. 

“At the first rays of dawn. Before the guards change duty. The night watch will still be patrolling.” 

Quicksilver grinned. “But as the light returns, the nightsight sap in their eyes will cloud their vision.” 

“Right. We strike while they’re half-blind. Come on. Let’s pay our friends to the east a visit. Then we’ll get some rest. Every moment will count tomorrow morning.” 

 

Spar awoke late at night. She sat up in bed and looked out at the jungle beyond the ziggurat walls. It had started to rain some time after she had dozed off, and now the world was a gray blur beyond the stone bars on the window. She smiled at the gentle sound. 

Door was fast asleep on the bed beside her. Once again his face was serene in repose, a mask of the youngster he once was. 

He was so beautiful. 

“Fenn...” she whispered, rolling the sound on her tongue. She reached out and touched his cheek, her fingertips tracing a line down to his jawline. 

Door’s eyes flickered open. He stared up at her with a drowsy expression. 

“Fenn,” she repeated, smiling. 

He blinked in confusion. “Sohn?” 

Strange, she felt no more pain when he spoke her soulname, no more unease. 

Her hand was still cradling his face. It lingered there even as Door sat up to better regard her, even as he brought his face so close to hers that their noses nearly touched. 

“I... didn’t mean to wake you,” she stammered. 

“I never mind waking to see you.” 

They locked stares. In the dim light, Door’s gray eyes seemed to glow. Strange, she had never noticed how brightly they shone, untold depths of quicksilver. 

Her heart was beating faster, her breath quickening. So was Door’s. She could feel his breath on her lips. 

“Sohn...” 

Spar leaned forward and covered his mouth with hers. 

Door drew back abruptly, bewildered. “That’s what humans do–” he stammered. 

Spar grinned, shy and emboldened at once. “Not just humans.” 

Door blinked. Hesitantly, he raised his hand to cup her jaw, and Spar leaned into the caress. Door drew her against him and returned the kiss, clumsily at first, then with a growing passion. Spar melted against him, slipping her hands up through the wide sleeves of his caftan and clinging to his shoulders tightly. Her pulse had become a fierce drumbeat in her ear. 

“Sohn,” Door whispered against her lips. “My Sohn,” 

“Fenn,” she sighed softly as his lips moved down her jawline and she obligingly buried her face in his silver hair. There was nothing more to say.


	5. Escape

The rain had not abated all night, and now the ground had turned to a thick mud on the farmlands surrounding the city walls. A heavy curtain of water blurred the vision of the human guards patrolling by the little creek that flowed out from under the city. The nightsight sap would not help them this night. 

“Perfect weather,” Dart breathed. “The High Ones themselves are helping us.” 

“Let’s keep our heads,” Sunstream said. “This is a bit of luck we can’t afford to waste. We move at dawn, not before. And we stick to the plan, understand?” 

The elves all nodded. The seven were perched high in the trees overlooking their destination. There was nothing to do now but wait. 

Soon the blackness began to lift, and world faded into lighter and lighter shades of gray. A soft colourless glow was beginning to play across the heavy stormclouds. 

**Now,** Sunstream sent. **Until we’re inside the city, we only locksend.** 

They dropped down to the forest floor. Stealthily they crept to the edge of the farmlands. Dart and Kimo led the way, blessed with the keenest eyesight in darkness. Wavecatcher followed, the strongest swimmer of the company. Windkin, Sunstream, Quicksilver and Yun brought up the rear. 

They crouched in the wet grass and crept closer. When the guards passed near they flattened their bellies to the muddy ground and waited. In the sheeting rain, with the rising sun in their eyes, the guards could not distinguish the elves from the normal rise and fall of the land. Once the guards moved on, the elves began to crawl again. 

They reached the edge of the creek and Dart and Kimo hung back while Wavecatcher led the way. He shaped his long tail and slid into the water, not unlike a river otter. Dart and the others followed, trying to make as little noise as possible. Once again the rain worked in their favour. 

**I know it’s tempting to crawl on the bottom, but try to swim,** Wavecatcher sent. **Try not to disturb the mud.** 

**Easy for you to say,** Windkin shot back. **We weren’t all born with fins.** 

**Try it like this, Windkin,** Yun sent. **Let your legs float and move with your hands.** 

**Heads up, landers, ** Wavecatcher sent. **The guards are coming back.** 

They all went still in the water, immersed up their nostrils, as the shadows of the guards fell over the creek. Then the shadows retreated, and the elves continued their progress up the channel. 

**We’re almost there,** Wavecatcher sent. **When it comes time to dive, everyone grab on to the ankle of the one in front of you. Dart, you take my tail – above the fins, please.** 

**I think I hear the guards coming back,** Kimo sent. 

**I can’t hear a thing in this rain,** Yun retorted. 

An arrow sank into the water right left of Dart’s shoulder. Instinctly the Wolfrider leapt back, splashing loudly. Angry human shouts followed, then a second arrow, narrowly missing Sunstream. 

**Grab on, everyone,** Wavecatcher sent. **Deep breaths!** The moment he felt Dart seize the base of his tail, he arched his back and dove down to the bottom of the pool. Dart almost lost his grip, but hung on tight, while Kimo held Dart’s left ankle fast. Arrows pierced the surface all around them as Wavecatcher dove into the darkness, navigating by the subtle push and pull of the current. 

**Don’t dawdle,** Windkin snapped. 

Wavecatcher reached out, feeling for the errant rock he had struck on his first dive. Gradually his fingertips found the familiar cracks and ripples that signaled the outer edge of the tunnel into the city walls. 

**It gets tight in here. Pull your arms in. Hang on with two hands, Dart.** 

**Why –ahhh!** Dart clutched Wavecatcher’s tail tightly as the mer-elf plunged into the tunnel with three sharp strokes of his tail flukes. With his hands held out in front to guide him, Wavecatcher led the way up the tunnel, labouring to support the combined weight of the elves in the chain. 

**Can’t breathe–** Windkin gasped. 

A distant light moderated the darkness. Wavecatcher grinned and swam faster, jostling the train and bumping Dart against the narrow tunnel walls. 

**Hey, watch it, fin-wrist.** 

**Faster!** Windkin snapped. **Can’t breathe!** 

They could now see each other as Wavecatcher climbed steadily towards the light. Suddenly he broke the surface of the water and leapt high into the air. His warrior instincts well-honed, Dart released Wavecatcher’s tail as the momentum yanked him up out of the water as well. Instantly Wavecatcher shaped his legs back, and he landed on the edge of the pool. 

Now their luck had run out. These spring-guards weren’t sleeping. 

“Demons!” one cried, reaching for his sword. But Dart was faster. He hauled himself out of the water and drew his own sword, slung on his back. Two bounding steps and he plunged his blade into the human’s abdomen. Kimo was fast behind him, and now he dispatched the second guard. The other elves surfaced in the pool, already reaching for their weapons. But the work was already done. 

“Shall we send to Spar?” Kimo asked. 

“No!” Sunstream shouted as he crawled out of the pool. “We can’t chance alerting Door. Now we don’t send – even lock-send – unless it’s a matter of life and death.” 

“We’d better hurry,” Quicksilver said. “It won’t be long before those lumps outside let their friends inside know we went up the spring.” 

Kimo and Dart took up the front positions, armed with their troll-forged swords. Quicksilver and Yun guarded the rear as they advanced down the torch-lit tunnel. 

* * * 

The gentle rainfall had become a torrent, loud as thunder on the roof, when Spar eased herself into wakefulness. Slowly she became aware of the pair of arms wrapped snug about her waist, the nose pressed against the nape of the neck, the delicious heat against her skin. 

She felt confined. She opened her eyes, then chuckled softly as she realized why. They had both bundled up tight under Door’s large caftan when the east wind grew cool in the night. 

“Mm, Fenn...” she whispered, shifting in his arms. Door’s only response was to cling to her more tightly. With some small difficulty Spar managed to roll over to face him. “Fenn,” she repeated, a little louder. 

His eyes flickered open and slowly focussed on her. “Mm... good morning, my precious mate.” 

“Good morning yourself, old bird. But I have to get up.” 

“Why?” 

Spar cocked an eyebrow. “Why do you think I might... first thing upon waking?” 

Door’s brow furrowed for a moment. Then he realized. “Oh. Yes. Of course.” 

“So... if you’ll let me go...” she tried to wiggle away, but Door held her fast. 

“You’ll come back?” 

“Of course.” 

“Promise?” 

She laughed. “Promise.” 

Door released her with a tight of great reluctance, and Spar shimmied out of the caftan. She seized her own woven robe and threw it on, then padded out of the bedroom, very much aware of Door’s eyes following her every step. She paused at the door and flashed him a flirtatious grin before opening the wooden door and slipping out into the throne room. 

Strange, Arua and the other women were not sleeping on the cushions surrounding the throne as always. Spar shrugged it off. Perhaps they were needed elsewhere. 

She went to the room designated for bathing and used the chamberpot, longing once again for the simplicity of forest life. She went to the large earthware jug to wash, and found it almost empty. The servants hadn’t filled it as they always did. Shrugging, she reached down to the water line and splashed herself with what remained. She donned her robe again and padded back towards the bedroom. She wished she knew where the women were. On her return trip the throne room looked somewhat more ominous in its emptiness. 

A hand reached out from around the corner and seized her. Spar was lifted off the ground and slammed hard against the wooden door that led out the main corridor. Spar found herself staring up at Kamara’s glaring visage. He held a black-bladed knife in one hand. The other pinned her to the door by her hair. 

“What–” she began. 

“There can only be One God here,” he growled, swinging the knife down. 

Spar pressed her hand against the wooden door. Instantly a long spire formed out of the door and plunged into Kamara’s left side. Kamara cried out in agony and staggered back, dropping the knife. 

“Fenn!” Spar cried, breaking away. Now bleeding profusely, Kamara still had the strength to lunge for her as she ran past. 

“You will not–” he caught her arm and yanked her back. Spar turned and sank her teeth into his hand, but this time Kamara held firm, pressing down so hard she was certain her arm would snap. His other hand crushed her throat. 

“YOU!” 

Kamara looked up, and his hold on Spar loosened slightly. Spar twisted in his grasp. Door stood in the bedroom doorway. 

“My lord–” Kamara stammered. “Almighty–” 

“YOU DARE HURT MY MATE?!” 

Kamara dropped Spar to the ground. “She is a demon, Almighty! She has bewitched you!” 

Spar scuttled back across the floor, away from Kamara. He was weak from blood loss, but still standing. “I am your high priest! I am of the Geo’kali! You must trust me–” 

“YOU ARE NOTHING!” 

The floor shook, and Spar struggled to her feet. Waves and ripples ran through the stone, converging on Kamara. He staggered back as the rock rose up around him. “No! No! Listen to me! I’m the only one who can protect you! Door!” The waves of rock drove him back against the stone wall. “Doooor!” he wailed. 

Door made a gesture. Sharp spines of rock punched through Kamara’s back and out through his chest. The man howled in agony, before his shouts turned to gurgles. He fell slack against the spines. 

“Door!” Spar ran towards him. But the look in his eyes stopped her in her tracks. 

“Worms...” he growled low. “Ungrateful, murderous... WORMS!” 

“Door!” she shook him. “I’m not hurt. It’s all right. You saved me.” 

“They dare stand against me? They dare hurt you?!” 

“Door, you’re scaring me.” 

“Animals! Worms! They hurt my mate? They hold us in this... this stone cage! They are the ones who should be in cages!” 

They heard the drumbeats in the distance, competing against the thrumm of the rain. 

“The alert,” Door murmured. “A call to arms.” 

“Sunstream and the others! They’re here.” 

A smile crossed his face. “Yes. Perfect timing. They shall be witness to it.” 

“To what? Door – talk to me!” 

“The cleansing this city sorely needs.” 

He rose up on the air, and Spar found herself levitating as well. The stone roof peeled open, and the rain sheeted down on them as they floated up out of the ziggurat. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Do not worry, Sohn. No one will ever hurt you again.” 

* * * 

The elves met little resistance as they raced up the tunnel towards the city. Two wiry human youths who were easily incapacitated without deadly force seemed their only barriers. 

“Listen to the rain,” Kimo said as raced to keep up with Dart. “It’s even louder.” 

“That’s not rain!” Dart growled. “It’s drums.” 

They ran faster, until at last they came to wooden door blocking their way. Dart pushed the door hesitantly. It did not budge. “Locked. Or barred.” 

Quicksilver moved to the front of the line and took hold of the little woven tassel that hung just above their heads. She pulled on it hard, and the door slowly creaked open, swinging inwards. 

Quicksilver peeked through the open door. They had taken the cave tunnel all the way to the base of the great ziggurat. High above on the ascending steps of the ziggurat, men beat brass gongs and leather drums, creating a man-made thunder. A man, not broad-shouldered and pale like the guards, but smaller and darker-skinned, stood on the great terrace, flanked by humans likewise dressed in cloth and feathers. 

“People of the Hoan-G’Tay-Sho!” the man shouted, his voice shrill with alarm. “The enemies of our God Door have come. Even now they may be among us, disguised as pure-hearted men. We must strike down these creatures before they can harm our Almighty!” 

“This isn’t good,” Quicksilver murmured. 

“Hear me,” Aina continued. “Loyal people – loyal servants of Lord Kamara and our Almighty. I... I bring you news from the Sky Spirit. He bids us destroy the evils ones who dare infiltrate our city – he–” 

The ziggurat shook. Hiding behind the door, the elves felt the shock wave rush under their feet. The topmost level of the ziggurat shivered and began to stretch like melting wax. The roof split open, peeling away, and Door emerged, his long robes blowing in the wind. A moment later, Spar followed, floating on the air like a leaf caught in an updraft. 

“There she is!” 

“Let’s go!” Sunstream cried. “We don’t have time to waste.” 

Door rose high in the air, floating over the terraces were Aina now cowered, completely out of his depth. “Humans of the Hoan-G’Tay-Sho, hear me!” Door shouted. “I am your living Sky Spirit. I am the Door through which you all must pass! No longer will I talk to your through the mouths of lackeys!” 

Sunstream and the others slipped out through the door and crept down the narrow dirt lane. No one was watching the walls. All eyes were on Door. 

“Now I say - Down with the Geo’kali and all their kind! They no longer speak for me, or my mate!” 

“No!” Aina cried. “We worship you! We and the Lord Kamara.” 

“Kamara is dead!” Door raged. “He dared raise a hand to my mate – my Goddess Redcrown! I have dealt with him and I will deal with you now!” 

“No!” Aina turned and ran. 

“Death to the Geo’kali!” Door commanded. “Death to those who have enslaved me!” 

Rock rose up under Aina’s feet. A long tongue of stone extended from the terrace, lifting the cringing man high into the air, then throwing him down among the crowd. 

“Door!” Spar cried as she hung suspended in the air. “Stop this!” 

Now the humans were restless, clamouring forward towards the ziggurat. The even elves moved with them, pressing closer to the great pyramid. The humans were chanting, pumping their fists in the air. Some cried out in support of the ruling caste, but the bulk of the people joined Door in the chant “Death to the Geo’kali!” Mobs of farmers and labourers threw themselves on the spot where Aina fell and tore his body to pieces. “Death to the priests!” the people cried. “The Almighty wills it!” 

Someone turned and saw the elves as they crept down the street. “Demons!” someone cried. 

“No! True spirits. Servants of the Almighty!” 

“Curse it,” Sunstream swore as suddenly all eyes were on them. He drew his dagger. “Let us pass, five-fingers!” he commanded. “Our quarrel is not with you, but with those who hold our friend!” 

“Yes! The spirits have come to help us!” a woman shouted. 

“They have come to rid us of the priests!” 

“Death to the Geo’kali!” 

“Here’s a priest!” someone shouted, and the elves turned. A mob of nearly ten Ulu-roa dragged a be-feathered priest forward and cast him into the muddy lane. “Kill the priests!” 

The assembled humans fell on the priest, pummelling him with stones, staffs, even their own fists. Sunstream gasped in horror, but Dart yanked on his arm. “Let’s go, Sunstream, while we have our chance.” 

The elves streaked through the crowd as those around them cheered and hollered for the blood of the ruling caste. Door now dropped down to the ziggurat terrace, and was shaping the flat stone into an undulating wave. The priests and musicians scattered, but great spikes of rock rose up and impaled them in turn. 

“No more priests!” Door vowed. “No more mouthpieces! No more gibbering monkeys and crawling worms! I need no keepers to protect me – no keepers to betray me! Betray my mate! Die, now, traitors!” 

Spar continued to hang in the air, helpless. 

“Spar!” Sunstream shouted. “Windkin–” 

“On my way,” Windkin flew up from the ground, bound for the suspended elf. 

“Flying spirit! Sky spirit!” shouts from the crowd greeted him as he flew up to Spar. She was drenched, her robes flattened against her body. She struggled in the air, but something held her in place. 

“Spar. Are you hurt?” 

“No. But you have to help Door, Windkin. The human chief tried to kill me, and Door lost his wits again.” 

“Yun and Dart’ll help him all right – with an arrow in the heart.” 

“No! Don’t kill him! You can’t.” **Sunstream, don’t let them kill Door!** “Windkin! Get me down from here.” 

Windkin encircled her waist with one arm and tried to fly her away. But the invisible hand held Spar fast in place. 

Down below on the terrace Door turned away. “You!” he glared up at Windkin. “You’ll not take my mate, flying rat!” 

An unseen hand struck Windkin, throwing him away. The Glider spun in the air wildly before he righted himself. 

**Fenn, let me down!** Spar sent. **Please. I’m afraid.** 

**Don’t worry, Sohn. I won’t let anyone hurt you. You’re safest up there.** 

**But I’m afraid for you!** 

**Me? I am their Almighty. They cannot hurt me.** 

The surviving priests and their bodyguards now charged Door, weapons raised. Door gestured and spires of stone shot out at them. 

Sunstream led the charge up the ramps of the ziggurat. Few opposed them, and those who did were easily dealt with. Most brawny Hoan-G’Tay-Sho guards were now in active flight as the Ulu-roa exacted their vengeance with every weapon at their disposal. The greatest danger, though, was the shaking temple itself, so overwhelmed by Door’s rockshaping that it trembled like a leaf. 

“This whole thing will come down at any moment,” Yun shouted. 

The fleetest of the Ulu-roa had outpaced the elves and now swarming around the Glider. “To me, true believers!” he crowed. “We will build a new world together.” 

“This is madness,” Sunstream swore. **Door! I am Sunstream, Master of the Palace! Listen to me. End this war.** 

Door laughed. “Ah! My mate’s friends, you have come at last. Come, see what a reception I have prepared for you.” 

**This cannot go on. When humans are aroused to bloodlust there no end to their hatred. They will turn on us next. You must stop this, now!** 

“Stop? My cleansing as barely begun! The old ways will die, and a new world will be created. Oh, Spar!” he turned and smiled up at her. “What a world awaits our future children!” 

His back turned to the terrace doors, he did not see the Ulu-roa raising his hardwood high overhead. 

**FENN!** Spar cried. **Behind you.** 

“Die, false god!” the man shouted, swinging the club down. Door turned and the blow that should have crushed his skull clipped him on the side of the forehead instead. He toppled over, while the loyal Ulu-roa turned on the would-be assassin and felled him under a rain of blows. 

His powers failed, and the force holding Spar aloft vanished. She cried out, but Windkin swooped in and caught her in his arms before she could drop far. 

“I’ve got you. Don’t worry.” 

“Take me to Door!” 

“What?” 

**Curse you, take me there! Now!** 

Windkin could not ignore the urgency of her sending, and reluctantly he made for the terrace. The Ulu-roa bodyguards clustered around Door nervously, eyeing the blood that streamed from the blow to his head. 

“He bleeds.” 

“He is not immortal.” 

“He is not Almighty.” 

“What do we do? What do we do?” 

“He’s a demon! A Hoan-G’Tay-Sho demon! Kill him!” 

The elves reached the terrace. “One side!” Dart shouted, and the terrified Ulu-roa drew back. Dart, Kimo, Quicksilver, Yun and Weavecatcher formed a defensive circle around the fallen Glider while Sunstream dropped to his side. 

“Is he dead?” Dart asked. 

Sunstream bent down and listened for Door’s breathing. “No. He’s just out.” 

“Well, let’s finish him now!” Yun snapped. 

“No. No killing. Enough blood’s been spilled already.” 

Windkin and Spar dropped down onto the terrace. Spar broke away from Windkin and fell at Door’s side. “Fenn? Fenn! Can you hear me?” 

“Fenn?” Windkin wrinkled his nose. He glanced at Sunstream, who could only shrug. 

“What are you, creatures?” one of the humans demanded. “You’re not gods. You’re not demons – what are you?” 

“Spirits,” Spar said. “Spirits of wood and water and air. But spirits are not gods. We can bleed and die just as you can.” 

“Let’s get out of here,” Sunstream said. “Windkin, take Door. Carry him out of here. We meet back in the trees.” 

“No,” Spar clasped Door’s hand tightly. “I stay with him.” 

“Windkin can’t carry you both. Come on, Spar. We can’t linger here.” 

“I won’t let anything happen to him,” Windkin promised. “But Sunstream’s right. We can’t treat him here.” 

Spar reluctantly left Door’s side and joined Sunstream. Windkin struggled to lift Door, then took off, the Glider cradled in his arms. 

“We’re leaving,” Sunstream said to the humans. “Let us pass.” 

“Will you take our god from us?” one asked. 

“We must. He belongs with his own kind. He is ill and needs healing.” 

“Will he never return?” 

“I don’t know. But we must leave now.” 

Slowly the humans drew back, making a path. The seven elves sprinted across the twisted rock – now frozen without Door to keep it flowing – and made for the city walls. No guards stood on the wooden ramparts, only cheering peasants. Dart and Kimo kept their swords raised, though it proved they had no need of them. They reached the rock wall and crawled up through the narrow crevices between the jagged spires. 

They climbed down the rock wall, cautiously moving from handhold to handhold. When they dropped down on the soft grass outside the wall, they found the farmlands littered with corpses. The call to arms had already spread outside the city, it seemed. 

“Let’s go,” Sunstream said. “Into the trees. Who knows how long it will be before the humans decide to hunt a different kind of prey?” 

 

The elves left the city behind them. They raced across the farmland and disappeared into the forest. Climbing up into the understory, they jogged along the branches until they found a spot where several branches converged to make a suitable resting place.   
**Windkin. Come here,** Sunstream sent. **Follow my sending.** 

Spar sat down on the nest of branches and creepers and drew her knees up against her shoulders. Yun sat down next to her. “You all right, Spar?” 

“Yes.” 

“You don’t look all right.” 

“I’m fine.” 

“Gutchucks! What did that Door do to you?” 

“Nothing!” Spar snapped. “Wood rot – why does everything think he’s a monster? He’s not the Black Snake, for Freefoot’s sake!” 

“He’s held you captive for six days!” 

Spar got to her feet. “You don’t understand anything!” 

Windkin appeared through the trees, still carrying Door. He set Door down on the wide branch, and Spar rushed to his side. “Fenn? Fenn? Are you all right? Come on, Glider, wake up.” She slapped his face lightly. “Wake up.” 

Door’s eyes slowly opened. “Spar... is that you?” 

Her face brightened. “There you are. Don’t try to sit up. That five-finger clipped you good.” 

“Where...?” 

“Outside the city. With my friends. Don’t worry – you’re safe.” 

“Must return... unfinished business...” 

“I wouldn’t worry,” Sunstream said dryly. “The humans are finishing matters for you. There is a war raging inside your rock walls. I don’t know who will be left alive by nightfall.” 

“I must return... my people need me...” 

“They aren’t your people, Fenn,” Spar said. “They’re five-fingers. And you’re an elf. They belong to their world, and you to yours. To ours.” 

“No... this is not what I wanted,” he slowly sat up, Spar supporting him. “I wanted to restore the Hoan-G’Tay-Sho. For years they cared for me... I cannot abandon them. I owe it to them to restore what they once were. My vision was beautiful... I stumbled on the way – I must finish what I started – and you must help me.” 

“No,” Sunstream shook his head. “We are returning to our home. Our way is not to interfere with humans. Little good ever comes of it.” 

“The humans need time to heal,” Spar said. “And so do you. Come back to the Palace with us. You can see Aurek – Egg – and Tyldak.” 

“No. Never. She lives there.” 

“She’s changed so much,” Spar insisted. “She’ll never even know you’re there. Her spirit sleeps, trapped inside the crystal walls. It take a sending scream to wake her up.” 

“You don’t have to fear Winnowill any longer,” Sunstream said. “And there is so much to be learned, and so much to teach, in the Great Holt.” 

“It’s too much...” Door shook his head. “No. Not now. Not yet.” 

“You can’t go back to the Hoan-G’Tay-Sho.” 

Door continued to shake his head. Panic was taking over his eyes now. 

“Leave us alone for a while,” Spar said. “Please? We need to talk together, the two of us.” 

Sunstream nodded, and the elves reluctantly moved away, leaving Spar alone with the injured Glider. “His headwound isn’t bad, but I’d still feel better patching it up with some salve,” Quicksilver murmured. “I wonder if he knows which of these plants works well for warding off infection.” 

“I can’t believe we’re just leaving him alone with Spar,” Yun grumbled. “He’s already mucked with her brains enough.” 

“Spar doesn’t seemed ‘mucked,’” Sunstream said. “She seems... calm. Confident. But different.” 

“Do you think she Recognized him?”Quicksilver wondered. 

“No,” Dart shook his head. “Her scent would be different, if she was with cub. Kimo and I would be able to tell.” 

“Maybe they haven’t answered Recognition’s call yet,” Wavecatcher said. 

“Oh, they’ve answered something all right,” Yun sniffed. “See how she’s hanging off him? I always knew she was insatiable, but this is going too far. I don’t remember any of the elders rutting with Winnowill in the old stories.” 

“Though she tried her best with my father,” Sunstream quipped. 

“I don’t like it,” Yun said. “You know how impulsive Spar is. She’s gotten herself in over her head.” 

At length Sunstream returned to Spar and Door. Spar was thoughtfully chewing dark green leaves. She then applied the leaves to Door’s headwound and bound them in place with a strip of cloth torn from her caftan. 

“What are those?” Quicksilver asked. 

“They come from that tree over there. The humans call them ‘broadleaf trees.’ The sap helps keep the wound clean. Door told me.” 

“The women... who served me, they always used these,” Door said. 

Sunstream sat down next to them. “How are you feeling, Door?” 

Door looked at Sunstream. He frowned. “I know you.” 

“Yes,” Sunstream smiled. “We met at Blue Mountain. I was only a child then.” 

Door shook his head. “I won’t go into the Palace. And I won’t let you take my mate away from me!” 

“Door,” Spar said softly. 

Sunstream looked at Spar. Spar gave him a helpless shrug. 

“Door won’t leave the Forevergreen,” Spar said. “And I won’t leave Door. He can’t survive on his own.” 

“What do you suggest? You two just... stay here?” 

“Yes.” 

“Alone?” 

“Yes. For now. Maybe... in a while, we’ll go to Sorrow’s End or even the Evertree Holt.” **Door needs to re-enter our world slowly. Too many elves around will only push him back into his shell – or worse, set off his temper.** 

**It’s that temper I’m worried about. He almost flattened that stone temple – what will he do if you misstep.** 

**He would never hurt me. I know that now.** 

**How?** 

She smiled. **Because he’s mine.** 

**You did Recognize him!** 

**No... not quite. I can’t begin to explain. But...** 

Sunstream nodded. **You don’t have to.** 

The other elves gathered around as Spar told them her plan. “We’ll make ourselves a little tree-home some distance from the city. See what happens. In time... when Door feels ready... well, we’ll see.” 

“You can’t just stay here in the jungle all by yourself,” Windkin said. 

“She won’t,” Yun spoke up. “Wavecatcher and I will stay too, won’t we, Wavecatcher?” 

Wavecatcher blinked. “Uh... yes, of course.” 

“Yun?” Spar asked. 

“You’ll need help hunting and keeping safe. Four stand a better chance than two. And we can keep an eye on Glider here.” She narrowed her eyes at Door. “You hurt my friend and I’ll settle you properly, understand?” 

Door got to his feet unsteadily and glared back. “You understand nothing!” he growled. 

“Yun, Door,” Spar cautioned. “Enough.” 

Wavecatcher slowly shepherded Yun away from the Glider. “I wouldn’t mind staying here a while,” he said cheerfully. “The waterways here are so different from those at home.” 

“What will I tell the others?” Sunstream asked. “What will I tell your father, Spar?” 

“Tell him... I’m travelling my own path for now, but that it will cross his again soon enough. Tell him this is something I must do.” 

**But is it something you want to do?** he locksent. 

**Yesterday I would have said no. This morning I would have said I wasn't certain. But now... yes,** she decided at length. She glanced back at Door, now standing at the edge of the tree branch, staring down at the forest floor in wonder. She smiled fondly. “Hardly what I expected,” she murmured. “But when it is ever?” she added wryly. 

Windkin slowly moved towards the solitary Glider. “Door?” 

Door turned. “The flying one. Are you Egg’s son?” 

Windkin shook his head gently. “Tyldak’s.” 

“Of course. You have his eyes. Have you come to help me restore what was lost?” 

“Some things shouldn’t be restored, Door.” 

“Does the dream end here?” he asked forlornly. 

“Time to dream a different dream. Come with us to Sorrow’s End. The Mother of Memory can help you. We don’t need the Palace; it’s only two eights-of-days away on the wing.” 

Door looked away. Windkin understood. “Then I’ll stay here with you, at least until you are settled. A lot has happened to the Gliders since Blue Mountain fell.” 

Door nodded distractedly. Spar returned to his side and he brightened slightly, but his gaze still strayed back to the distant city. 

“It was a good dream, Door,” Sunstream said, drawing closer to the three elves. “One my mother believes in with all her heart. Elves and humans can live side by side. But these two human tribes cannot exist together in peace. How can they accept us if they cannot accept each other?” 

“They are all I have ever known of the world without.” 

“I know. But their world is rotten. And we have neither the power nor the right to cleanse it for them. This is their battle, not yours. But perhaps... in time,” he offered gently. “Time is one thing we ‘spirits’ have in abundance.” 

The nine elves journeyed through the jungle through the day and into the night until they came to the plateau where the Palace had deposited the elves only two eights-of-days earlier. When Sunstream called the Palace Door hung back in the trees, unwilling to venture too close to the crystal structure that housed Winnowill’s soul. Sunstream did not mind Door’s relutance; after Winnowill’s Egg scheme and Haken’s invasion of the Palace, he was relieved to see an ancient elf who had no ambitions for ancestral elf magic. 

Skywise was overjoyed to see his daughter alive and well, but his relief was shortlived when he found Yun intended to stay behind. “I’ll be home before you know it,” she reassured him. “Think of it as another quest with the Wild Hunt.” 

“Tell Ahdri I’ll be home before Mother Moon shows her full face three times,” Windkin told Sunstream. “If she wants to join me, tell her the Forevergreen is as beautiful as the day I first soared over it. But I doubt she’ll come,” he added softly. “She’s certain the day she leaves, the entire village will fall to pieces.” 

“Spar?” Sunstream asked one last time. “Are you sure about this?” 

“I’m sure.” 

“If you need me–” 

“I’ll call. Don’t worry. I’m not a cub anymore.” 

“You were never a cub. That’s why I’m worried.” 

Spar pulled a face. 

“You know your mother won’t like this,” Skywise warned as he closed the crystal door behind Sunstream. 

“Wavecatcher and Windkin can be trusted to keep Spar from losing perspective, or Yun for that matter.” 

“And Door? He needs a healer by the sound of it.” 

“We can’t force him, Skywise. You know that.” 

“You know,” Dart said as the Palace lifted off the ground, “once again we’re leaving Door behind because we don’t know what to do with him.” 

“No,” Sunstream said. “This time is different. This time Door has a voice.” 

* * * 

Door watched the Palace disappear into a blur of light. A few minutes later Spar climbed up into the tree to join him. “Come on, old bird,” she said. “We have work to do.” 

“Work?” 

“We need a shelter up before daybreak. You’re not in the city anymore,” Spar prompted. “No Ulu-roa slaves to fetch you food and drink. Gotta learn to fend for yourself.” She held out her hand. “Come on.” 

Door took her hand hesitantly. “But, you’re not leaving.” 

She smiled. “No, Fenn. I’m not going anywhere.”

**Author's Note:**

> Check out the full EQ Alternaverse http://www.janesenese.com/swiftverse


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